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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25526386">All I Ask of You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ally147/pseuds/Ally147'>Ally147</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>what raging fire shall flood the soul? [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff and Angst, Zutara Week 2020, inspired in part by current plague times</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:47:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,671</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25526386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ally147/pseuds/Ally147</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I get it to a point, Zuko,” she says sharply. “If you were any other person in the world, maybe I would sit back and let you deal with this in your own way. But you’re not just any other person. Not to the world, not to your nation, and definitely not to me.”<i></i></i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katara/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>what raging fire shall flood the soul? [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849363</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>311</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Day 1: Reunion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Day One: Reunion</p><p>Written for Zutara Week 2020 as a continuation of the fic I wrote for Zutara Month Part 2, 2020. If you haven't already read it, I would encourage you to do so, as the events of that fic are referred to a lot in this one.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Great Gates of Azulon no longer loom as the entrance to Fire Nation waters, but a shudder races along Katara’s spine as the merchant vessel passes over the place they once were.</p><p> </p><p>The harbour waters shimmer like glass beneath the bright, blazing sun. The heat rippling on the wind is tempered only a little by the strong sea breeze. Katara leans over the boat’s side and pulls ribbons of water to twirl and dance with the pigeon gulls flying alongside them. It’s the only distraction she can find for the ceaseless, nervous gallop of her heart, which only leaps when the city comes into full view.</p><p> </p><p>Over countless rooftops in every shade of red she could imagine, the spires of the palace reach towards the sky. There’s a balcony on the topmost one, that wraps around the tower. From it, the city radiates outwards like a flame, one side hitting dense forest, the other out to water the same colour as newly forged silver. On a clear night, the sky is a canvas of colours and stars from worlds beyond. She and Zuko spent not-enough nights on that tower in the time before their first kisses, making games out of the view above and below.</p><p> </p><p>Did Zuko get her letter in time? Is he up there watching for her now, like she’s watching for him?</p><p> </p><p>“Master Katara?” She drops the water to a chorus of indignant birdcalls, and blinks as the captain, a gruff, though very small man from the central Earth Kingdom, comes to a pause at her elbow. He barely reaches her shoulder, smells a little like tobacco and a lot like sea salt. “We’re about ready to start docking procedures, if you’re still wanting to hop off here.”</p><p> </p><p>He says <em>here</em> like it’s a dirty word, but she nods, hoists her bag from where it sits by her feet and hauls it over her shoulder. “Thank you for the passage, Captain Shen. Do you need any help at all getting the ship into the harbour?”</p><p> </p><p>The old captain shakes his head and grins, a glint of gold in his teeth shining in the sun. “Nah, the crew’s got to earn its keep somehow. No way we would have made it through the storms without a master waterbender with us.”</p><p> </p><p>She smiles. “Happy to be of service. Where will you be heading after this?”</p><p> </p><p>Captain Shen squints into the glittering water of the wider ocean. “North to your sister tribe, then circling back around the Earth Kingdom.”</p><p> </p><p>“I wish you safe waters then, Captain.”          </p><p> </p><p>He dips into a shallow bow, and she’s not sure she’ll ever get used to such reverence being directed at her. “And to you as well, Master Katara.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>All roads lead to the Fire Nation Palace.</p><p> </p><p>She follows one of what must be a thousand paths from the harbour through the circular city. Each new layer seems wholly new from the other, a hundred different cities all rolled into one.</p><p> </p><p>The market is as alive as the harbour, pungent with freshly milled spices and fire smoke from countless street food vendors. She stops to look at nearly every stand she passes, exchanging a few leftover Fire Nation silvers at one for a bracelet beaded with deep red-orange-gold beads that ripple like live embers when held up to the sun.</p><p> </p><p>The shopping district bustles with tall, slim Fire Nation women dressed in bright ruby and garnet shades of silk and countless different shapes of hair ornaments tucked in their high buns. They laugh and smile with each other demurely, bags clasped in dainty fingers as they dart from one store to another. She wonders how long it’s been since people were as free to move as they seem to be now. Have those women ever known a time where it was fine — encouraged, even — to be out and spending and smiling as they are now?</p><p> </p><p>The business district is as alive as any of the others, though the men and women bustling through its narrow streets are as sombre as a funeral. She recalls Zuko mentioning the dire financial straits the Fire Nation was in immediately after the end of the war, but it’s been close to a year now. Things must have improved a little, surely?</p><p> </p><p>Closer to the middle, the shouts and laughs of the outer city layers disappear, and the clothes everyone is wearing start to change. A little more formal, a little stiffer. Royal advisors and government personnel, she guesses, all walking the same path she is. They mutter to each other and themselves, some marking up crumpled pieces of parchment with tiny, sharp Fire Nation script and scores of dark lines.</p><p> </p><p>And at the very middle, surrounded by a high fence she doesn’t recall being there last time she visited, the palace glitters like a jewel in the sunlight.</p><p> </p><p>“Master Katara!”</p><p> </p><p>Two women in full Kyoshi dress stand by a gate in the fence. One stands tall and imposing, gloved hands set at the ready on her fans as she watches Katara approach like an eagle-hawk. The other hops back and forth and waves with a ridiculous amount of cheer.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello! Glad you made it!”</p><p> </p><p>“Um, hello?”</p><p> </p><p>The taller figure offers a Kyoshi salute. “Welcome, Master Katara. Fire Lord Zuko told us to expect you soon and sends his apologies for not being able to meet you himself.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, that’s fine. I didn’t expect that he would.”</p><p> </p><p>The smaller figure tips her head to the side, her long braided hair whipping along with it. “You don’t recognise me, do you?”</p><p> </p><p>Katara shakes her head. “I’m sorry. Your voice is a little familiar, though.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s Ty Lee, remember? Oh, and that’s Mayumi. She’ll be your escort, too.” She gestures to the other woman, who nods and readjusts the huge bow and quiver strapped to her shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Ty Lee?” Katara’s stomach sinks; it’s like Ba Sing Se all over again. Like lightning, she rips the cork off her waterskin and encases her fingertips in sharp points of ice. “As in, the flippy circus girl who was friends with Azula? That Ty Lee?”</p><p> </p><p>Ty Lee’s smile falters. “That’s me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then, given our history, you’ll forgive me for not trusting you immediately.”</p><p> </p><p>Ty Lee frowns and holds out her hands. “You can trust me now, Katara. I’m not… like that anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>“How do I know that?” Katara dares. “One of the last times I spoke to you, you were wearing the Kyoshi warrior outfit to fool us.”</p><p> </p><p>“She was appropriately chastised by Suki for stealing our fans and falsely purporting herself to be a Kyoshi warrior,” Mayumi cuts in with a sharp, sideways glance at Ty Lee. “Ty Lee has paid her dues per Kyoshi Island justice. You can verify with the others once we’re inside the palace, if you wish.”</p><p> </p><p>A vein in Katara’s temple twitches. “Is that true?”</p><p> </p><p>Ty Lee nods so fast Katara worries that whiplash might be an imminent possibility. “It’s true, I swear. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for all the times I hurt you and your friends when I was still with Azula.”</p><p> </p><p>But she can’t quite bring herself to take her hand off the water skin yet. “You took away my bending with a few fancy pokes!”</p><p> </p><p>“I could teach you how to do it, too, if you like?”</p><p> </p><p>It’s on the tip of her tongue to tell the girl to flip away, <em>far</em> away, but there’s something in the wide set of Ty Lee’s big grey eyes that reminds her so oddly of Aang that she can’t bring herself to say it.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” She lets out a breath and melts the ice at her fingers, guiding the water back into its skin. “Thanks, I guess. Apology accepted.”</p><p> </p><p>Ty Lee grins and leaps forward to wrap her in a tight hug. “Oh, thank you!”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, don’t mention it.” She pats Ty Lee’s shoulder and takes a long step back. “I’m sorry, did you say you were my escorts?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s right.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why would I need an escort?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, strictly speaking,” Ty Lee says as she opens the gate and very quickly locks it again, “you probably don’t <em>need</em> one, no, but Zuko has asked that you have one anyway. Or, two, I guess, to be more specific.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>Ty Lee and Mayumi exchange a glance. “That might be a question better directed to the Fire Lord, Master Katara,” Mayumi says.</p><p> </p><p>Neither say another word as they take up spots on Katara’s left and right and lead her toward the palace doors. An odd twitch runs through her when they pass the courtyard where she and Zuko fought Azula, now demolished and replaced with what looks like the beginning of an ornate fountain.</p><p> </p><p>Does it work for him, she wonders, to be rid of the place entirely? Or does the memory of the fight barrel into him every time he walks past regardless? Even the benefit of distance hasn’t granted her such peace. The fight with Azula plays out in perfect colour in her mind. She feels the sting of the flames that singed her arms, remembers the cold terror in her heart when Zuko collapsed under the staggering weight of a lightning bolt meant for her…</p><p> </p><p>She closes her eyes and shakes the memories away. It doesn’t work, not really, but very quickly it no longer matters, because there he is by the main door, flanked by another two guards in full Kyoshi dress, whole and healthy and safe and <em>alive</em> and —</p><p> </p><p>“Zuko,” she breathes.</p><p> </p><p>He smiles, that very small, very Zuko smile that she’s missed terribly. “Hello, Katara.”</p><p> </p><p>She’s flying into his arms before he’s finished saying her name. He catches her with a grunt that melts into laughter, the breath of it hot against the crown of her head.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re all right,” she whispers in the crook of his neck. She can feel his hands ball into fists, one pressed between her shoulder blades, the other wrapped around the curve of her waist. “Thank the spirits, you’re all right.”</p><p> </p><p>He squeezes her. “I’m okay, Katara.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m allowed to be worried,” she mumbles against his skin. His throat vibrates with laughter.</p><p> </p><p>“You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve missed you so much, Zuko.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve missed you, too.” He pulls away, but not by much, and tilts her chin up with warm, rough fingers, leans in and drops a quick, careful kiss to her lips. She shuts her eyes and melts against him. Spirits, she’s missed this.</p><p> </p><p>When he pulls back, his cheeks are bright red, and so are hers, probably. The guards behind them offer nothing except quirked eyebrows and blink-and-you-miss-it smiles.</p><p> </p><p>He rubs at the back of his neck. “Wait, was that…”</p><p> </p><p>She kisses him again. “You’re still allowed to kiss me, Zuko.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t want to assume.”</p><p> </p><p>“Believe me, I’ll let you know if I ever want you to stop.”</p><p> </p><p>“How likely is that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not very. I like it when you kiss me.”</p><p> </p><p>He does it again, a little deeper, a little longer. “I like it when I kiss you, too.”</p><p> </p><p>He offers her his hand and leads her into the palace, down familiarly long, elaborate and somehow understated hallways, nodding greetings at the bowing servants they pass.</p><p> </p><p>“So,” he begins in his familiar rasp. “How was your journey?”</p><p> </p><p>“Difficult at first. There were some storms as we approached.”</p><p> </p><p>He nods like he was expecting her to say something like that, and glances out a tall, narrow window to the cloudless blue sky. “This is the first clear day we’ve had in some time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh? Has it been bad?”</p><p> </p><p>“The storms from the north made their way down through the nation. They petered out around the middle, but there was still plenty left in them by the time they hit the city and moved out along the coast.”</p><p> </p><p>She nudges him with her elbow. “Are we really going to talk about the weather?”</p><p> </p><p>He smiles. “Not if you’ve got something more exciting that you’d like to talk about.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s fine. I… I’ve missed listening to you talk.”</p><p> </p><p>His cheeks colour, just a little. “I didn’t think I talked all that much,” he mumbles.</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly.” She reaches up and kisses him again. “How is your uncle?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll be able to ask him yourself. He’s visiting this week, too.”</p><p> </p><p>Katara hums. “Is he really? He never mentioned that in his letters.”</p><p> </p><p>“He probably wanted it to be a surprise.” Zuko snorts. “Sometimes I wonder if he likes you more than I do.”</p><p> </p><p>He blushes immediately, and Katara lifts on her tiptoes to press her grinning lips to his cheek. “And how much is that, Zuko?”</p><p> </p><p>He wraps his arm around her waist and catches her lips with his. In the middle of the corridor, he slants his scalding lips over hers in measured, controlled strokes that make her heart skip faster and slower at the same time. The kiss robs her of her breath, has her dizzy and light. She clutches with hands bent into white-knuckled fists at his outer robe to make sure she won’t fall, even as she matches him stroke for stroke, nipping at his lip and soothing the sting with her tongue. A deep, dark groan wrenches out from his chest, and he pulls back, pupils blown wide.</p><p> </p><p>Somewhere outside of them, a person squeaks, and their footsteps clatter away. She blushes, and so does he, but neither of them makes a move to pull apart.</p><p> </p><p>“More than I think I could ever understand,” he whispers.</p><p> </p><p>He reaches out and smooths a lock of hair behind her ear. She swallows, releases her grip on his robes and smooths down the creases she made with her enthusiastic pawing.</p><p> </p><p>She clears her throat, glances at the guards, who are conveniently glancing elsewhere. “That much, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“And then some, probably.” He gives her a final kiss before he leads her to a tall door embossed with a flame filled with pieces of gleaming stained glass. Behind it, a wide, sprawling office, with a heavy wooden desk dominating the centre of the room. A pair of gleaming dao blades with dulled, worn handles sit mounted in a cross halfway up it, at a perfect height to seize and fight with if needed.</p><p> </p><p>“What about that flooded province you mentioned in your letters?” she asks as she sits in the soft, inviting sofa pressed against the wall. He pulls open a tall window and lets in a breeze warm and heavy with the scent of moon-peach blossoms. “Was it as bad as you were expecting?”</p><p> </p><p>“Jeunso Province.” He sighs, rubs his eyes, collapses beside her, pulls his hair ornament from his topknot and tosses it with a clatter to the low table in front of them. “Somehow, it was even worse. I… I’ve never seen destruction on that scale before. Not to mention the illness that broke out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can I go? Is that allowed?”</p><p> </p><p>He glances quickly at her. “Technically, no, since you’re not an appointed diplomat, and your assistance hasn’t been offered by your father, nor have I formally requested it.”</p><p> </p><p>She frowns at him. “Seriously?”</p><p> </p><p>“You coming in and helping without the proper requisites could be read as undermining the Fire Nation. Not that I think you are,” he assures her at the growing scowl pulling her lips. “It’s a dumb rule, really. Or at least it would be if this were occurring at any other point in history. But with everything still so tentative…”</p><p> </p><p>She slumps. “So, you’re not letting me go?”</p><p> </p><p>He shrugs, the movement near impossible with his broad-shouldered collar. “You could, if you were accompanying me back there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Honestly, Zuko, do you need, or even want to go back?”</p><p> </p><p>A tiny smile quirks his lips. “In times of crisis, previous Fire Lords never really intervened beyond basic assistance measures. My grandfather never visited areas affected by natural disasters, and my father never did, either. If I’m going to gain the confidence of my people, I need to go beyond the actions of my predecessors.”</p><p> </p><p>She raises a brow at him. “So, it’s a popularity thing for you, is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Believe me, I know exactly how it sounds, but that isn’t what it is, and it’s not how I want people to see it.” He pauses, sighs. “Jeunso Province was… flattened. They have military assistance right now and as much money as the treasury can spare being funnelled in. Despite that, there’s still an element of confidence and trust which is established when a leader enters an area. And to those in the outer provinces, I’m little more than a figurehead, a silhouette on a coin. They don’t have the benefit of seeing me every day like the people in Caldera City.”</p><p> </p><p>She pauses. “They already have coins with your face on them?”</p><p> </p><p>He shoots her a dour look. “That’s what you’re taking from this conversation?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m just impressed it was so quick, that’s all. None of the silver pieces I had had your face on them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably because my face is only on the gold ones.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, not really.” He smiles again. “Your silvers were probably just old ones.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your jokes are still horrendous, Zuko.” She smiles at him. “So, would you go with me, then? Can you spare the time?”</p><p> </p><p>“I desperately want to see my country and people get better after a natural disaster. I truly think you would be able to help in that capacity. So,” he stands, bows deeply from his waist, “Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, I humbly and formally request your assistance in providing medical aid to the people of Jeunso Province.”</p><p> </p><p>She stands and mirrors his bow. “I would be honoured to assist the Fire Nation at this time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” he says, smiling as he sinks back down, a little closer to her this time. “Uncle should be happy to act as regent.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is that why he’s here?”</p><p> </p><p>“It might be part of it, yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“It sounds like you’ve been planning a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>“I haven’t seen you in almost a year, Katara. Of course I was going to try and block out some time for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Accompanying me to an area devasted by flood and illness can’t have been what you were expecting, though.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not a question of expectations, Katara,” he tells her as his fingers inch across the narrow divide between them to curl around hers. “Let me spend some time with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You know I’m not going to say no to that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I should tell you, too,” he pauses, sucks in a breath, “that while you aren’t currently a diplomat, there has been some talk of offering you the ambassador position.”</p><p> </p><p>“Me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you. Uncle might’ve… recommended you to the council when he was acting as regent while I was… ill.”</p><p> </p><p>“But… isn’t Ila still —”</p><p> </p><p>“She announced her pregnancy at the last Four Nations summit, along with her intention to resign.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. Well, I don’t… wouldn’t Sokka be a better choice?”</p><p> </p><p>Zuko shakes his head. “Sokka’s in line for a leadership position of his own. By our rules, he cannot be offered ambassadorial status with us. But even if he were eligible, you would still be my first choice.”</p><p> </p><p>She smirks. “Because you’d have me around more often then?”</p><p> </p><p>“That would be… a fringe benefit, yes.” His cheeks glow. “But you are still the best person for the job. Your compassion, your sense of justice, and determination for the betterment of the world make you a natural choice.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad you think so. But still, I’m just not sure.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not a formal offer,” he tells her. “Not yet anyway. I think you could expect a formal offer once you turn twenty-one. No one here would listen to a sixteen-year-old ambassador, no matter how accomplished she is.”</p><p> </p><p>She grins and quirks a brow. “But they’d let an eighteen-year-old rule the entire nation, no questions asked?”</p><p> </p><p>“Honestly, I’m not sure how okay they are with that, either. There’s a lot of talk here.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you know… court things.”</p><p> </p><p>“Zuko.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? It is mostly just court things.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I’m sure you’re at the centre of any and all court things.”</p><p> </p><p>“That isn’t… an untrue statement.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what do you mean by that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just that there’s two members of the royal family currently living in the city, three if you include Uncle, and they get brought up just as often as I do.”</p><p> </p><p>She leans in closer. “They’d rather someone else be on the throne?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s never going to be perfect, Katara. There’d be people complaining if Uncle or Azula were Fire Lord, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what about your father?”</p><p> </p><p>Zuko sighs. “My father is a non-issue, trust me.”</p><p> </p><p>She squeezes his hand. “You’re never going to be safe, are you?” she whispers.</p><p> </p><p>He shrugs and smiles a hopeless sort of smile. “Where would be the fun in that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Zuko.” She sighs. “Does this have anything to do with the guards you assigned to me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just a precaution,” he says lightly. A little too lightly. “For now, though, may I kiss you again?”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to keep asking.”</p><p> </p><p>He grins and leans in a little closer. “Just making sure.”</p><p> </p><p>Maybe she’s a little shallow, but natural disasters, ambassadors, and political intrigue don’t seem to matter quite as much when Zuko’s lips are on hers.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Day 2: Counterpart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Day Two: Counterpart</p><p>When I set out to write this story, I never meant to take inspiration from our current plague times. Unfortunately, this chapter is all about the Fire Nation's (northernmost province's) problem with plague times. If you feel at all triggered/discomfited/irked/annoyed by discussions of plagues, however fictional, please consider this your warning.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The airship is just as awful as Katara remembers it.</p><p> </p><p>She spends much of the four-hour journey to Jeunso Province stuck in her cabin again. This time, Zuko’s in there with her from the beginning, bearing awful witness to every burning, heaving retch and wiping her down with a damp cloth in the aftermath.</p><p> </p><p>She tells him it’s gross, <em>she’s</em> gross, that he should go back to his own cabin that surely won’t reek of stale sweat and fresh vomit, but he only shrugs and dabs her forehead.</p><p> </p><p>“You nursed me through a gaping lightning wound,” he tells her. “This is the least I can do.”</p><p> </p><p>When they make land after nightfall, though, it’s clear that the journey won’t be the worst of it.</p><p> </p><p>While Zuko speaks to the captain, she creeps from her room and opens the main door. She can’t see far beyond it — too much cloud covers the brightness of the moon here — but she chokes on the air, thickly humid and stinking of wet dirt, mould, and decay.</p><p> </p><p>Zuko told her they landed some distance from the village centre. If the damage here, a place she thinks must have been grazing land for animals, is so terrible… what must that village look like?</p><p> </p><p>She feels Zuko’s warmth against her back, the first solid thing she’s felt since they took off hours earlier. He takes her hand in his and squeezes.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s awful,” she mumbles.</p><p> </p><p>“I know. Come on,” he whispers. “We need to stay inside.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mosquito flies. Do you hear that hum?” She can, and she’s not sure how it wasn’t the first thing she noticed. “The amount of them exploded after the rains. The doctors think they’re what’s spreading the illness around. They’ve been spraying them at nights, trying to kill them, but it’s a slow process.”</p><p> </p><p>“What will I do tomorrow, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll be given a special suit to wear, so you aren’t bitten.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what about everyone out there?” she hisses. “Are they safe out there? I presume they don’t all have their own airships to retreat into.”</p><p> </p><p>“They were provided with netting, citronella candles, salves, and anything else we could think of. Katara, please, I know it’s terrible, but nothing is going to change down there between now and tomorrow.” He squeezes her hand again and gently tugs her away from the open door, where no stairs were drawn beneath her feet. “Please,” he says again.</p><p> </p><p>She looks out over the valley again. The floodwaters are gone, but they left gashes behind, deep enough to leave swathes of black darker than night. The weak light of flittering firebugs waltz over the wreckage, a galaxy on its way to ruin.</p><p> </p><p>Katara lets him tug her inside. The door closes behind them like a bomb. “All right.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Zuko smirks when she meets him at the airship’s main door the following morning.</p><p> </p><p>She scowls and tugs at the bunched sleeves of her thick grey jumpsuit, twin to his, complete with a vivid red flame embroidered over the breast pocket. Matching mesh masks hang over their faces, making his smirk hazy, but no less infuriating. “Don’t even say it,” she mutters.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t say what? You look adorable.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Adorable.” She snorts. “Yours actually fits, but you don’t make it look any better.”</p><p> </p><p>His smirk smooths out into something more sober. “Are you comfortable, at least? Can you bend in these gloves? Because they might have some thinner ones in the village, if you want to swap.”</p><p> </p><p>She flexes her fingers. The range of movement isn’t the best, but she says, “It’ll work fine for now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good.” He nods to the ship’s captain, who opens the door and flips a lever to extend the stairs down. The Kyoshi guards accompanying them file down the stairs first, the marshy green-brown of their jumpsuits melting into the background.</p><p> </p><p>Zuko offers his hand. “Together?”</p><p> </p><p>“Together.”</p><p> </p><p>He leads her out of the airship and in a slow dance over the ground, picking out spots firm enough to hold their weight. The harsh buzzing of the mosquito-flies grows louder with every step they take. Pockets of matted white and brown fur peek up between new shoots of grass, and every so often, she steps on something that splinters with a sharp, chilling crack.</p><p> </p><p>“Jeunso Province is farming territory, isn’t it? Sheep cattle, specifically.”</p><p> </p><p>Zuko glances at her and nods. “Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did many animals survive?”</p><p> </p><p>“I was told last time I was here that a third of the close to two thousand animals survived, and they were almost all pregnant females getting ready to give birth in the stables a little higher up the mountain. Usually, the herdsmen have time to get all their animals to higher ground and wait the rains out, but this storm came with hardly any warning at all.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, they all died where they stood?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, most likely.” Zuko nudges something that might be a skull with the covered toe of his boot. “I’m sorry, Katara. I know this is… unpleasant, but there’s nowhere to land closer, and no other way to enter Jeunso Province unless you want to navigate from the mountains on the other side.”</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head. “I’ve seen plenty worse.”</p><p> </p><p>Jeunso Province appears as they crest a gently sloping hill. It reminds her painfully of the South Pole before the war’s end, little more than a smattering of hastily built shacks and a communal strip lined with empty market stands. A tall, red tent surrounded by a dozen smaller white ones alternately marked with large red and green crosses sit beyond the town’s main circle, figures dressed in the same grey jumpsuits she and Zuko wear darting in and out.</p><p> </p><p>Aside from them… no one. Even her footsteps, swallowed by the soft land, seem to echo in the vast nothingness.</p><p> </p><p>“Where is everyone?” she whispers.</p><p> </p><p>Zuko inclines his head toward the white tents. “About half of the military was called back last week —”</p><p> </p><p>“— What? Why?”</p><p> </p><p>A ripple runs through Zuko’s jaw. “They were needed in the capital.</p><p> </p><p>“As for the rest of the population,” he goes on, “they’re in the field hospitals. Green crosses are quarantine. The first few who have recovered completely will be able to leave in the next few days.”</p><p> </p><p>“Armed with what? What’s to stop them from falling ill again?”</p><p> </p><p>“A salve a team of apothecarists made, plus the netting, and the candles. Hopefully, it will be enough to last until the population of mosquito flies die or naturally move on.”</p><p> </p><p>She’s quiet, then asks, “How many people died?”</p><p> </p><p>Zuko swallows. “About half, in the initial floods.”</p><p> </p><p>“And after?”</p><p> </p><p>“Another third or so again. The fever swept through quickly, before any aid could arrive. We’ve only just managed to stem it in the past few weeks. There hasn’t been any new cases in the past day or so.”</p><p> </p><p>She nods, the sheer mesh covering her face shimmering in the cloudy, grey light.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose I’ll start in the hospitals, then.”</p><p> </p><p>She expects him to let her go, but he keeps hold of her hand and leads her to the closest red cross-marked tent. The stench of sickness and life teetering on the edge of death is an assault when they brush past the heavy curtains. The people, patients, doctors, nurses alike, freeze and go silent at the sight of them, standing there. The few who can fumble into half bows, which Zuko halts with a wave of his hand and a small, strained smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Please,” he says — implores, really. “None of that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fire Lord Zuko,” a tall woman in a green jumpsuit greets him. She, too, dips into a quick, almost begrudging bow. She moves in fleeting twitches, like she can’t stay still for longer than a moment. “We weren’t expecting you again so soon. Have you brought… news, from the capital?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, nothing like that. Head Healer Tsung, may I introduce you to Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe? She was trained in the North Pole by the finest waterbending healers. She’ll be joining your staff for the next week.”</p><p> </p><p>The head healer’s gaze whips up and down Katara and settles somewhere around her face. “You wish to join us, My Lady?”</p><p> </p><p>She pauses at the odd choice of title. Katara glances at Zuko, who stares ahead and offers her nothing as his cheeks turn a gentle red. “Yes, but —”</p><p> </p><p>“— Good.” The head healer turns and beckons like a slap for Katara to follow. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ll be taking our leave, Fire Lord Zuko.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh,” Zuko shifts his gaze between her and the head healer. “If we could have one moment, please?”</p><p> </p><p>Head Healer Tsung cocks her head like a confused bird, and Katara swears she can hear the woman rolling her eyes. “Of course, my lord. Find me when you’re… done, my lady.”</p><p> </p><p>The head healer darts off, muttering to herself as she flits between the rows of beds. Zuko takes her hand and leads her off to a quiet, dark corner. She watches his face, draped in dramatically dark shadow, and waits for him to speak.</p><p> </p><p>He opens his mouth once, twice, three times before he lets out a breath and says, “Please don’t go where your guards can’t see you.”</p><p> </p><p>She crosses her arms over her chest, a mean feat in such an oversized suit. “I still don’t see why I need to have guards with me at all,” she tells him.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want you getting hurt,” he tells her lowly, his head bent close to hers. “Or worse.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or worse? Zuko, these people are seriously ill, not to mention heartbroken. What could they possibly do?”</p><p> </p><p>He squeezes her hand. “It’s not the people I’m worried about.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re being cryptic.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you’re being flippant.”</p><p> </p><p>She sets her mouth into a thin line. “Where will you be?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be meeting with the section commander to discuss progress and what else may be needed from the capital. In the red tent just outside. I’ll come find you later.”</p><p> </p><p>She nods. “Fine.”</p><p> </p><p>He pulls her close and kisses her, quick and slow and hard and soft at the same time through the mesh of their hats. “Be careful,” he whispers. “<em>Please</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>She swallows and nods. “You, too.”</p><p> </p><p>Their hands pull between them, gloved fingertips touching until the last possible moment</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>She follows Head Healer Tsung down row after row of beds. People shiny-faced and glassy-eyed with fever watch every step she takes. Katara meets their gazes, each and every one, and wonders if she’s the one full of that unrelenting desperation Zuko was talking about.</p><p> </p><p>She clears her throat and asks Head Healer Tsung, “Do people heal from this?”</p><p> </p><p>The woman continues forward and answers, “It took a long while to devise treatments which work, but yes, up to eighty percent of the infected survive now.”</p><p> </p><p>“How is it transmitted?” Katara furrows her brow. “Is it contagious?”</p><p> </p><p>Head Healer Tsung shakes her head sharply. “Not so far as we can tell. Blood borne, we think, and transmitted exclusively by the mosquito flies.”</p><p> </p><p>At the word <em>blood</em>, Katara’s fingers twitch and flex in their gloves. “I might be able to help.”</p><p> </p><p>Head Healer Tsung makes a clucking noise. “Fire Lord Zuko is young, but he’s not stupid. I don’t think he would have brought you here if you couldn’t.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I mean…” She pauses, balls her hands into fists. “Never mind. Where should I start?”</p><p> </p><p>“Pick a row and move down. Beds marked red are urgent care patients, blue are less so. Yell if you need help.” She darts away like a spooked ostrich horse, leaving Katara surrounded by a veritable sea of patients, and perhaps just a little bit more overwhelmed than she expected to be.</p><p> </p><p>Her first patient is a young boy, barely five years old if she had to guess. He sleeps in a narrow cot with a too-thin woman in a jumpsuit sitting in a chair beside him. His forehead is damp and nearly transparent beneath wispy strands of charcoal black hair, and his chest rises and falls in a pattern she can’t predict.</p><p> </p><p>Katara holds her gloved hands to the small boy’s chest and reaches out to listen to his body. The infection is thick, slippery to grasp and not fond of being held for too long when she does manage to catch it. It moves like sludge in his veins, slowing his blood and his heart to a crawl, stuck like glue in even the tiniest crevices. She tugs on it, gently at first, a little firmer second.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing happens.</p><p> </p><p>“My Lady?” Katara’s eyes snap open and she finds Head Healer Tsung crouched in front of her, her thin mouth pressed into an even thinner line. “Are you all right?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s hard,” she rasps. “It’s almost like…”</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t know what it’s like.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you… wash the sickness out?” she asks.</p><p> </p><p>Katara doesn’t answer, instead uncorking her waterskin and drawing a ribbon of water out. It’s unwieldy work with the gloves on, but she sinks the water into the boy’s body, which reacts to the intrusion with a sharp jerk.</p><p> </p><p>It’s different to anything else she’s ever had to do. This isn’t a wound to be repaired, or an ache to be soothed. She thinks the process would be vastly easier with spirit water, or nearer to the full moon, but she shuts her eyes and tracks the sickness in this boy’s blood. She catches tiny pieces of it in bubbles and dissolves it into nothing, again and again, until the blood flows like blood once more.</p><p> </p><p>When she opens her eyes, the boy’s chest and the water within it glow as bright as a moon. She wheezes as she draws the water out of the boy and drops it on the floor, and she thinks she might pass out if she doesn’t take the moment to put herself back together.</p><p> </p><p>“Lady Katara?” the head healer whispers, her bony hand pressed against Katara’s back. Is she swaying, or is the tent swaying? White spots pop like fireworks in her vision. Her two guards stand at the ready with their hands on their fans. She almost laughs; what could they possibly fight an infection with those?  “Are you all right?”</p><p> </p><p>“I… I think so,” she says, gasping. “That was… spirits, that was —”</p><p> </p><p>The too-thin woman in the chair — the boy’s mother, she guesses — watches her with wide, unblinking eyes. “Will he be okay?” she asks.</p><p> </p><p>Katara blinks once, twice. The fireworks aren’t stopping. “I think so. I can’t feel the sickness in his blood anymore, but I’ll come back tomorrow to make sure.”</p><p> </p><p>“I haven’t seen anything like what you just did,” Head Healer Tsung says with a grim smile. “Do you think you can do that again?”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe not right away,” she says, swallowing a gasp. “Give me… a moment or two to catch my breath.”</p><p> </p><p>“Take all the time you require, My Lady.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” she says, lips twisting. “Why are you calling me that?”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s that, My Lady?”</p><p> </p><p>“That! The ‘my lady’ thing. I’m not… titled or anything like that. I’m a peasant from the Southern Water Tribe.”</p><p> </p><p>The head healer surveys her with something like incredulity, and the woman in the next bed closest to them bursts out in crackling laughter, followed by a spurt of wet coughs. The head healer grimaces as she moves to rub the woman’s back, and the too-thin woman watches with a wince.</p><p> </p><p>“You came with the Fire Lord, didn’t you, My Lady?” the head healer asks once the old woman has calmed.</p><p> </p><p>She blinks again. The fireworks are slowing. “Well, yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“And are you not… with him, also?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh!” Her cheeks flame. “I… I don’t really know how to answer that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not really a tricky question,” the old woman in the bed says.</p><p> </p><p>“But it’s trickier than yes or no.” Katara sighs and tugs some more at her too-long sleeves. “Does everyone here think Zuko and I are married?”</p><p> </p><p>“We had no confirmation, just rumours.” Head Healer Tsung says with a shrug. “But when everyone saw you and the Fire Lord walking hand in hand as you entered the tent, not to mention the matching royal insignias on your suits… yes, I would think most of us thought the rumours true then.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” she says, glancing at the embroidered flame. The fireworks in her eyes have stopped. “Well, we’re not.”</p><p> </p><p>The old woman’s eyes twinkle. “So you said, dearie, but I have a feeling we may see you in a crown yet.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>After a dozen more of the less serious patients, she bypasses Zuko and the red tent completely and trudges back to the airship. Her guards follow at a close distance, and she can’t bring herself to be annoyed; they’ve caught her mid-fall more than once over the marshy ground.</p><p> </p><p>She hauls herself up the airship’s steps and nods once at the captain. He gives her a look that reminds her somehow of her father, scolding and concerned all at once. She reacts much the same way she would if it were her father looking at her like that: she rolls her eyes and stomps off to her room, shutting the door behind her.</p><p> </p><p>She peels off the jumpsuit and kicks off her shoes, collapses face-first onto her cot and falls asleep after the first blink.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Katara wakes hours later to a pounding headache and a hollow stomach.</p><p> </p><p>She winces as she sits up, rubs at her temples with cold fingers. A candle she doesn’t recall lighting burns almost down to the wick on the bedside table, casting ghostly, rippling shadows on the dark grey walls. Her waterskins sit by her discarded jumpsuit. Empty, of course.</p><p> </p><p>The door groans as she pushes it open. On the other side, it’s mostly silence, save for a gentle rasp like rustling parchment somewhere deeper in the airship’s bowels.</p><p> </p><p>She tip-toes through the halls, past growing and receding snores from the crewmen tucked away and sleeping for the night. A flame flickers further down the corridor, and the rustle of parchment grows louder. When she meets the end and sees him there, seated on the long sofa before a low table, she frowns.</p><p> </p><p>“Zuko? What are you still doing up?”</p><p> </p><p>He jumps, flicking tiny droplets of ink into the air that she catches with a quick wave and guides back to its pot. “Katara,” he says, only a little breathless. He pushes aside the parchment and brush, replaces the lid on the ink pot. “You’re awake.”</p><p> </p><p>She laughs, the sound of it dry and raspy with sleep. “What an astoundingly astute observation.”</p><p> </p><p>“You get good at deductive reasoning in this line of work.” A tiny smirk pulls at his lips. “How are you feeling?”</p><p> </p><p>“Headachy. Hungry.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can help with one of those things.” His robe rustles along the ground as he stands and beckons her to follow him to the kitchen. “There’s still some rice and vegetables left. No meat, though, sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>He makes her plate in silence. She watches on, captivated by the movements of his ink-stained hands.</p><p> </p><p>“That enough?”</p><p> </p><p>“Plenty, thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>He heats the plate from underneath until it’s steaming. “Careful,” he murmurs as he passes the plate over. “It’s hot.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Zuko.” She takes the plate carefully by the rim and sits.</p><p> </p><p>Zuko joins her and sets two glasses of water on the table between them. "Head Healer Tsung said you were incredible today.”</p><p> </p><p>She swallows her mouthful of rice and sets the chopsticks off to the side. “It was… so hard. Harder than I expected. But… rewarding, too? I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you, though.”</p><p> </p><p>He waves her off. “Don’t apologise. You saved lives today.”</p><p> </p><p>“I hope so.” She yawns. “Isn’t it late? Why are you still up?”</p><p> </p><p>He shrugs. “I was writing a letter to Uncle. I discovered last time I was out here that I don’t sleep particularly well when I’m making these kinds of trips, when there’s not really anything I can do to help.”</p><p> </p><p>“From what I’ve been told, you’ve been helping plenty.”</p><p> </p><p>He snorts and rubs at the back of his neck. “Yeah, that abstract kind of help where I stamp a document or make an order and help appears where it’s needed. When we were all travelling before… at least then I felt like there was something tangible I could do, even if it was just dying.”</p><p> </p><p>“Zuko…”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t misunderstand. I didn’t want to die then, I promise, but I knew that if it came down to it, I would, and I would happily.”</p><p> </p><p>“Zuko,” she says again, softer.</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, the situation was in my control then.” He huffs a bitter-sounding laugh. “It certainly isn’t now.”</p><p> </p><p>She nods, slowly. “I think I can understand that. The scale of this…”</p><p> </p><p>He smiles, but there’s no humour in it. “I’d offer you something alcoholic, if I brought anything with me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You mean you didn’t?”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t think it would hit me quite as hard the second time. I was wrong.”</p><p> </p><p>“I saw plenty of heartbreaking things during our travels, places like Gaipan and Jang Hui.” She shakes her head. “But the combination of factors at play here… the damage from the flood, the illness, the injuries, the mental state of some people, it’s all so much.”</p><p> </p><p>He tips his head and watches her with the strangest expression on his face. “I didn’t bring you here so you could save the day, Katara.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know. I just thought…” She trails off. He sighs, wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her close. Her plate of food sits off to her side, forgotten for now.</p><p> </p><p>“I can guess what you thought,” he whispers.</p><p> </p><p>She closes her eyes and leans against him, breathing in his warmth. “Did you notice people referring to me as ‘My Lady’ today?”</p><p> </p><p>He tenses, for the barest half a second, before relaxing again. “I did.”</p><p> </p><p> “They think we’re married out here.”</p><p> </p><p>He sighs. “I thought they might. Whatever news they get out here must get so distorted on their way down the grapevine. I’ll look into a system to deliver more accurate news to the outermost provinces when we get back.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what would you have them believing about us instead?”</p><p> </p><p>He taps her shoulder. “That sounds like a sneaky lead-in to another one of those heavy conversations.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not. Well. Not right now, anyway. It’s a bit too late for anything too heavy.”</p><p> </p><p>He lets out a long breath. “I’d have them know,” he begins carefully, “that their Fire Lord is… happy. Happier than he’s been in a long while.”</p><p> </p><p>She smiles against his chest. “Hmm? And why’s that?”</p><p> </p><p>“The turtle ducks in the private gardens laid their first clutches of eggs last week,” he says without missing a beat. “In about a month there’ll be fluffy little turtle ducklings everywhere. That makes me pretty happy.”</p><p> </p><p>She pulls a ribbon of water from the sink and flicks it at the back of his neck. He evaporates it before it reaches his skin and laughs, leans close and presses a gentle kiss on her forehead.</p><p> </p><p>“Honestly, though… you didn’t have to come back here, Katara,” he says in a low murmur that sends a shock of warmth through her, “but I’m so glad you did.”</p><p> </p><p>“I told you I would.”</p><p> </p><p>His smile is a little heartbreaking. “I’ll have to work a little more on believing you when you say things like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t believe me when I told you I’d come back?”</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose I hoped, but I think I’ll always have trouble believing it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then I suppose I’ll just have to keep proving it to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Katara,” he says weakly. “You really don’t —”</p><p> </p><p>She shuts him up with another kiss. It works effectively, too, she thinks as she smiles into it. She’ll have to keep this method on standby.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Day 3: Fuse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Day Three: Fuse</p><p>This chapter is quite a bit shorter than the previous ones, but I still like it :)</p><p>(But I still can't decide if those final couple of lines are too much in a good way or bad way...)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Her days fuse together before long. Long, timeless stretches cleaning the blood of the infected victims, soothing the pain of the dying, fixing the wounds of the plain unlucky. By the second to last day of her week in Jeunso Province, there’s an ache so deep in her bones it seems as though it’s been there forever. Only when she retreats to the airship at night and joins Zuko with his tea and insomnia does she feel alive again.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t get me wrong,” she whispers. “It’s good work. Important. Exactly the sort of thing I want to be doing. I’ve been able to help so many people. But it’s draining me faster than I can keep up with.”</p><p> </p><p>She feels him nod, and knows he understands the feeling better than most. “You know you don’t have to keep going,” he murmurs. “If you want to stop now, it’s fine. More than fine. You’ve done so much in just a few days.”</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head. “No. I want to see this out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Will you be okay?”</p><p> </p><p>She melts against him, wraps an arm around his waist. “So long as I get to rest like this with you at night, I’ll be fine.”</p><p> </p><p>Zuko tenses, just a little. “I don’t keep you awake, do I?”</p><p> </p><p>She yawns. “Not at all. I don’t think anything could keep me awake at this point. I’m just so sleepy all the time.”</p><p> </p><p>“That much bending would take it out of anyone, I promise you that.”</p><p> </p><p>“What about you? Do I keep you awake?”</p><p> </p><p>He shakes with a silent laugh. “A number of things keep me awake, but you’re definitely not one of them. You do help me rest, though if that makes sense.”</p><p> </p><p>She smiles and buries her face against his shoulder. “It makes perfect sense.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll be leaving soon, anyway,” he says softly, his tone a strange mix of relief and regret. “Head Healer Tsung said she was so impressed with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve been impressed with her, too,” Katara says, yawning again. “She reminds me of Yugoda. And my Gran-Gran. No-nonsense. Gentle. Somehow kind and harsh at the same time. Good healer qualities.”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re your qualities, too, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not old like them yet,” she says, words slurring together.</p><p> </p><p>Zuko chuckles and kisses the top of her head. “Go to sleep, Katara.”</p><p> </p><p>She turns her head and buries her cold nose against his neck. “What about you?”</p><p> </p><p>He hums and she can feel him playing with her hair. “I’ll be right here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sleep, too?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not yet, I don’t think.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ever?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m used to it, but you’re not.” He kisses her forehead, holds there a beat longer than normal. “Go to sleep, Katara.”</p><p> </p><p>“Idiot,” she mutters, and she’s out like a light.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“You’re done, My Lady.”</p><p> </p><p>Katara blinks at the head healer, who stands above her with her head cocked to the side and a reprimanding twist to her thin lips.</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re done,” the head healer repeats, slower like she thinks Katara can’t hear her. “Finished. Free to leave.”</p><p> </p><p>“But why? I can keep going! I know I can, I just —”</p><p> </p><p>“— No need.” The reprimanding look melts into the closest thing to a true smile that Katara’s seen on the healer. “Thanks to you, we’ve moved through the extensive backlog. Those patients left can be cared for by the Fire Nation medics.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can —”</p><p> </p><p>“— No, My Lady. Not only would the Fire Lord have me demoted for allowing you to continue, but there is no good reason why you should. You’re tired, My Lady. At this point, I truly believe you have done all you can for these people.”</p><p> </p><p>Katara sighs and leans over, pressing her forehead against the cold railing of her patient’s bed. They haven’t woken yet, but their breathing has eased significantly. Katara sends another quiet thank you to the spirits.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure?” she asks, but her voice is weak, and maybe she’s desperate to be done. “Because it’s a full moon tonight, and I know I can —”</p><p> </p><p>“My Lady,” Head Healer Tsung cuts in. “Please know that I say this with all the respect due. Thank you for all your hard work, but please go back to your airship. Take that Fire Lord with you, and <em>take a damn rest, for Agni’s sake</em>. I swear, you’re both as bad as each other. A blessed match, to be sure.”</p><p> </p><p>Katara’s cheeks flame. “If you’re absolutely sure…”</p><p> </p><p>“More than. You’re finished here, My Lady, but don’t think we’re ungrateful. However, I hope we never meet again under the same circumstances.”</p><p> </p><p>“I hope not as well.” She stands — her head doesn’t swim with dizziness anymore — and offers a traditional, if a little clumsy, Fire Nation bow. “Thank you for everything, Head Healer Tsung.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re more than welcome, My Lady, but in this instance, you are absolutely not the one who should be offering thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>Head Healer Tsung walks away this time. She doesn’t bustle, dart, or run. Katara blinks away the last of the fireworks in her eyes — they’re disappearing quicker now, she’s grateful to note — and notes that all the medics are moving like that now. Relaxed. Unhurried. There are maybe a hundred patients left now, and only two or three with the more severe symptoms. More than manageable now for the fifty-strong medical team.</p><p> </p><p>Katara glances at her last patient one more time, notes the evenness of their breaths and the colour returning to their skin. She nods to herself, satisfied for now, and leaves the medical tent.</p><p> </p><p>It isn’t a long walk between the medical tents and the red-topped military tent, but she stretches it into a ten-minute journey. Seven days isn’t a long time, but it’s been enough to make the village seem alive once again. Enough to temper the stench on the breeze. Enough to dull the low hum of the mosquito flies into something very close to silence. There’s promise in it, hope, and she’s almost drunk on it.</p><p> </p><p>She slips into the military tent unnoticed. In the grey jumpsuit, she looks just the same as everyone else. For the most part, anyway. She learned early to strategically drape the long, sheer mesh of her mask over the embroidered flame on the breast pocket. The bowing still makes her uneasy.</p><p> </p><p>Zuko’s at the back of the tent, leaning over a table and studying something while an older man — his unit commander, she recalls — with a shock of white hair stands to the side with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed enough to create wrinkles like crevasses in his face.</p><p> </p><p>“What about the lake?” Zuko asks the commander as she stops beside him. She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze. Head Healer Tsung was right; he looks like death warmed over. He offers her a brief, tired smile and turns back to the commander. “Has there been any further discussion on how best to clean it?”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s a few options,” the commander says. “We could boil it, but there aren’t many firebenders this far north, not enough to boil a body of water that large. Plus, that sacrifices any fish that might be there. Or we could iodise it, but it’s not exactly a sure thing, and again there’s no telling what it might do to the fish. Manual cleaning would take too long, but —”</p><p> </p><p>“— Seriously,” Katara cuts in. A chuckle escapes her lips. “Manual cleaning?”</p><p> </p><p>The commander narrows his eyes. “Would you like to offer an alternative, My Lady?”</p><p> </p><p>The <em>My Lady</em> still makes her blush, even when offered in such a begrudging tone. She clears her throat. “Of course. You’ll allow me to purify it myself.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Zuko says, shaking his head. “What do you mean, purify it yourself?”</p><p> </p><p>She grins. “Did I ever tell you about the time I pretended to be the Painted Lady when we were travelling though Jang Hui?”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t. The Ember Island Players did.”</p><p> </p><p>She rolls her eyes. “I think I missed that part.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not by much. You came back just as the scene was ending.”</p><p> </p><p>“What ridiculous liberties did they take with that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Something about magical tears,” he tells her with a snort. He shakes his head. “You made a soppy speech and cried into the water. Honestly, I wasn’t paying too much attention.”</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously?” she scoffs. “Magical tears? There was nothing magical about it."</p><p> </p><p>His grin is tired, but wide. "Explain it to me properly, then."</p><p> </p><p>"It wasn't complicated. The people there were sick because a medical factory there was leaking all sorts of waste into the lake water. No one there was doing anything, so I just…”</p><p> </p><p>He laughs, and it injects a sliver of life back into his face. “The ridiculous simplicity of your statements. No one was doing anything, so you purified a river singlehandedly.”</p><p> </p><p>“I was the only one who could do it!”</p><p> </p><p>“I know. It’s a good idea. Do you think you could do it again?” he asks, and in that moment, he looks a thousand years old. “I know you’re tired. It’s been a… a long week, and I truly hate to ask, but…”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm. I suppose I could,” she says, trying for levity and likely missing entirely; the bags under his eyes match hers perfectly. “The mesh mask is pretty similar to the rice hat I wore for the original costume.”</p><p> </p><p>Zuko rolls his eyes. “Oh, yes, can’t forget that.”</p><p> </p><p>“The full moon will help, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“Definitely can’t forget that.”</p><p> </p><p>“My Lady,” the commander says. She jumps; she’d almost forgotten he was there. “Purifying the lake… is this something you truly believe you can do?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, I can.” The last lingering shreds of sunlight are fast disappearing, and whatever tiredness she felt earlier falls away as her power builds like lightning in her veins. “I can do anything.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Even with the moon at its zenith, it takes two, three, four, five times longer than she’d guessed. There isn’t a part of the lake untouched by the mosquito-fly larvae or some other pollutant.</p><p> </p><p>By the time she wades out of the waters, it’s early morning, and her legs and arms don’t feel quite like legs and arms anymore; Zuko sprints across the soggy ground with his guards hot on his heels and catches her before she collapses on the riverbank.</p><p> </p><p>He holds her close, one hand braced around her neck, and the other wrapped around her waist. The smile he wears is dazzling in the moonlight. “You actually did it.”</p><p> </p><p>Her teeth chatter. “You doubted me?”</p><p> </p><p>He runs a hot hand up and down her back. “No, I just… that was a big lake —”</p><p> </p><p>“— The one in Jang Hui was bigger —”</p><p> </p><p>“— and you were in there for hours. The lake actually <em>glowed</em> for a while. This bright iridescent blue like…”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm, like what?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know. Like your eyes, I guess.” He cringes. “That was pretty sappy, wasn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I hate to break it to you, Zuko,” she says with a shaky smile, “but you’re pretty sappy all the time.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” She blinks innocently. “I thought you knew.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not always sappy,” he grumbles.</p><p> </p><p>“Doesn’t matter. I kind of like it anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you really?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Don’t tell anyone.”</p><p> </p><p>“So long as you promise not to tell, too. Do you think you’re ready to head back to the capital?” he asks. “We’re leaving soon. As soon as we're ready, but I can postpone it if you —”</p><p> </p><p>She presses her forehead against his chest, fatigue settling like lead in her bones. “No. I think I’m ready to go.”</p><p> </p><p>He wraps his arms around her, presses a kiss to her crown. “I still haven’t thanked you for everything you’ve done,” he murmurs against her hair. “I don’t think I can thank you enough.”</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head. “I didn’t do much, really.”</p><p> </p><p>“You did so much here, Katara. So, so much. You saved people who aren’t your own. Your capacity for compassion will always stun me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Will it make a difference?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, it will. You gave everyone hope, Katara. Sometimes, hope does a far sight more than physical aid ever can.”</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t possibly believe that.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you can’t possibly believe that.” He tilts her chin up, drops a gentle kiss to her lips. “Hope is powerful.”</p><p> </p><p>She yawns. “I’ll want to come back here again. I want to see what this place is like when it’s thriving.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll bring you whenever you like, maybe one day when we’re —”</p><p> </p><p>A long, jagged crack of lightning splits the sky and his sentence in half. Zuko tenses, flinches, and recoils all at once, that amazing smile disappearing like a trick of the light.</p><p> </p><p>“Zuko?” Her hand slides over his chest as though to keep his thudding heart from escaping. “Are you all right?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m okay,” he mutters. “It’s just…”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay,” she whispers. “I don’t like lightning storms, either.”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re so common here, during the summer,” he says distantly. Another harsh flinch steals across his face as another bolt rends the sky. “I was counting us lucky for not seeing one while we were here, but I guess I was wrong. It’s not… it makes it hard to… you know.”</p><p> </p><p>She curls her hand into the soft fabric of his tunic. “Yeah, I do. You have to admit, though,” she leans her head on his shoulder, “it’s pretty spectacular.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. I suppose it is.”</p><p> </p><p>She feels his heart jump with every flash in the sky, every rumble which echoes through the ground. Hers doesn’t fare much better, but this time there’s nothing to be done for the lightning in the air. And when there’s nothing to be done…</p><p> </p><p>She turns her head and looks at him. The lightning reflects like silver in his eyes. “It’s kind of beautiful, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>And his voice rumbles like the thunder when he holds her gaze and her hand and her heart and says, “Yeah, you are.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Day 4: Celestial</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Day Four: Celestial</p><p>Not my best work, to be honest. I like some parts of this chapter, but I fell behind and really rushed through others. I might come back at the end of Zutara Week and give this one more of a polish. And a proper proofread...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Caldera City is completely still when they land in the palace courtyard late that night.</p><p> </p><p>Iroh greets them, bleary-eyed and yawning. He wraps Zuko in a hug and whispers something she can’t hear. Zuko nods and says something back that makes Iroh beam.</p><p> </p><p>A small retinue of servants emerges from the palace, silent and all but invisible in dark robes. They gather the bags and carry them away like cricket ants foraging for food, speedy and efficient.</p><p> </p><p>“And Master Katara,” Iroh says as he moves to wrap her in a hug, too. “Was it a productive trip?”</p><p> </p><p>She nods against his shoulder, breathes in the cloudy scent of jasmine tea. “I think so.”</p><p> </p><p>“You <em>think</em> so?” Zuko snorts. “Uncle, she was incredible.”</p><p> </p><p>Iroh beams again, and Katara rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t... <em>incredible</em>,” she protests, though her cheeks fill with pleasant heat. “I was just doing what anyone else would have done.”</p><p> </p><p>“No need for modesty, Master Katara,” Iroh gently chides her. “You’ve done our nation a wonderful service.” He bows low before her, too low. “We are in your debt.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, you’re absolutely not,” she says, aghast.</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, we kind of are.” Zuko rubs at the back of his neck. “You fulfilled your end of the deal. Now we must offer something back.”</p><p> </p><p>“You mentioned nothing about debts, Zuko,” she snaps, turning on him. “This wasn't a trade. I didn’t come to help you just so you could repay the favour later.”</p><p> </p><p>“I never said you did! And as the one calling in the debt, you are within your rights to request anything you like, large or small.”</p><p> </p><p>“What if I don’t want anything?”</p><p> </p><p>“Then I guess you’ll have me at your beck and call forever until you change your mind!”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not a decision which needs to be made right away, Master Katara,” Iroh says serenely as he moves to stand between them, “and certainly not at this hour. Come inside. It’s late, and you’ve both had a long journey.”</p><p> </p><p>Zuko sighs and offers her his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“You sure about that?” she asks, one eyebrow raised. “If you’re going to be at my beck and call, maybe you’d want to be further away.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or maybe you’ll trip to your doom,” he says without missing a beat, “and I’ll be right there to catch you. Then we can consider my debt repaid and forget the whole stupid thing.”</p><p> </p><p>She snorts and takes his hand, and he watches with that very small, very Zuko smile. She hasn’t seen that smile at all over the past week.</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously, though, Katara,” he says as they walk up the stairs and into the palace. “You can’t think of one thing at all that you might want from me?”</p><p> </p><p>“What exactly are you implying, Zuko?”</p><p> </p><p>His lips twitch. “Nothing at all. Will you be staying much longer?”</p><p> </p><p>She raises a brow at the quick subject change. “At least until the end of the month, if it’s okay with you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, it is. You’re always welcome. More than welcome, really. But I’m going to be busy again,” he warns her. “I wake early and work late. I’ll maybe only see you for breakfast, and maybe not even then.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve never been so conceited,” she teases him. “Who said I only came for you?”</p><p> </p><p>He gives her hand a squeeze. “You weren’t quite so happy to see anyone else when you arrived.”</p><p> </p><p>“Was that a joke?”</p><p> </p><p>“Depends. Was it funny?”</p><p> </p><p>She grins as they come to a stop in front of her door. “Not even a little.”</p><p> </p><p>He rolls his eyes and steps forward, entering her space and flooding it with his heat. It’s an eternity crammed into a minute, the long, laborious seconds it takes for just his nose to brush hers, for his lashes to flutter like hummingbird moth wings against her cheeks. By the time his lips meet hers, she’s been ready for a thousand years.</p><p> </p><p>“I think I know what I want from you now,” she murmurs against him.</p><p> </p><p>He hums, and the vibration tickles her lips. “That was fast. What is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Meet me at the top tower tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>He pulls back, just enough to let a rush of cool air pass between them. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>“You heard me. Top tower. Tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>“But did you hear me? Busy. Late nights. Early mornings.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. Not tonight. Another night. Whichever night works best for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“That might be tricky.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure you’ll figure something out. You’re repaying a foreign diplomat for aid, remember?”</p><p> </p><p>He huffs a low laugh. “You have an extremely low asking price.”</p><p> </p><p>She sets a hand on his cheek, just below the edge of his scar. “And yet you still make it sound impossible.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not impossible.” He sighs, leans into her. “Just… I’ll try, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Good night, Zuko.”</p><p> </p><p>One more kiss, one that lingers on her lips and settles warm and low in her stomach.</p><p> </p><p>“Good night, Katara.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It’s close to midday when she wakes, stuck with sweat to the dark satin sheets.</p><p> </p><p>The sun is high, bright, and hot. An open window lets in a gentle breeze coming off the sea. She spreads her arms wide and cools the sweat on her skin to somewhere just short of ice, and the cool breeze makes her shiver. Zuko told her once that it was gross. He’s probably right, but she's not sure she cares.</p><p> </p><p>A small cylinder of letters bound in red ribbon sits on the bedside table. Sokka’s hurried scrawl stares out at her on the first. Behind it, missives from Aang and Toph as well. All ask some variation of the same thing: how is she, how is Zuko, how is the Fire Nation. Katara rolls her eyes and takes the letters to the writing desk set up in front of the open window.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Katara!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I can’t believe you! You can’t even stay in the capital long enough to tell me if Zuko’s all right! Your tendency to dash off and save the world without thinking about it is… wildly inconvenient, is what it is!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Seriously, though, is everything okay? You left kind of in a hurry. General Iroh was nice enough to write, though, but his letter didn’t really make me feel any better. Off to cure plagues in disaster afflicted areas now, Katara? Sounds like Jang Hui all over again.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Yeah, yeah, I can hear you now: I never turn my back on people who need me. Well, I hope you remember what I told you then, too, but I guess you had the king of the jerkbenders backing you up while you were there.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>(Seriously, if he didn’t, tell him I’m cutting off his jerky supply. I don’t care if he’s my only source of fire flakes. I’ll hurl a boomerang at his head next time I see him, too).</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Suki says to say hi, too. Maybe pass on my thanks to Zuko for letting her out when he did.                      </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Stay safe, Katara,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sokka,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>She laughs fondly and reads the letter again before making her reply.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Sokka,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>First off, Zuko is fine. And of course he backed me up. Your strange jerky/fire flake exchange can resume as normal, or whatever passes for normal with you two, anyway.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>We’re back from Jeunso Province now. I think it was a successful trip. There was still a lot happening when we left, but it all looked in much better shape than it was when we arrived. Remember how our village looked during the war? Those few tents and your watchtower? Jeunso Province reminded me so much of those days.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Tell Suki I said hi, too. I’m kind of sad I missed her. She would have left here not long before I arrived. Funny how things work, really.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I told Zuko I’d be staying here until the end of the month, so it’ll be a while before I’m home again. Maybe send me some seal jerky while you’re sending some to Zuko, too.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Miss you, and everyone else, and tell Dad to stay safe on the ice,<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Katara</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She writes replies to Aang and Toph, too. It’s a quiet afternoon spent in front of the open window, catching dregs of breeze, but it’s pleasant. Unhurried. There are no expectations or demands on her time. She breathes, and out, and smiles. Nothing else happens.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>She goes to the topmost tower anyway. It’s still so hot by midnight that it’s impossible to fall asleep, and the sea breeze has completely died off.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a difficult climb up so many steps, but it’s worth it when she comes upon the last door and pushes it open and —</p><p> </p><p>“Zuko,” she says quietly, closing the door behind her. “I wasn’t expecting you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, but after today, I wanted to see you. Funny that I got here before you, actually.” He stares to the sky and lets out a heavy sigh, the Fire Lord in his posture flowing out like water and leaving just a weary Zuko behind. "We don't have to consider this your repayment, though. I don't have enough energy to do much, really."</p><p> </p><p> "Spirits only know what you think I want from you, but I'll save it for later, anyway." She stops beside him and sets her elbows on the railing, close enough to his that she can feel the heat of him rolling off in waves. His arms are bare in his short-sleeve tunic, and the sash tying it at his waist is loose and fluttering gently. “You should go to bed, if you’re tired,” she tells him as she catches one of the sash's ends, tugging at the fraying edges. “You don’t have to be here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Neither do you. You had just as busy a week as I did.”</p><p> </p><p>“But I got to sleep in," she points out. "You don’t have such luxuries.”</p><p> </p><p>He turns and faces her, a brow quirked. "Are you taunting me?" he asks, but the tease in his tone is clear.</p><p> </p><p>"I think you taunt yourself plenty, considering you probably have to be awake in a few hours."</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t lying the other night, Katara," he says with a long sigh. "I do feel rested after spending time with you.”</p><p> </p><p>"Me, too, but it shouldn't be all you rely on. You can talk to me about whatever it is bothering you," she tells him, dropping the sash and taking his hand. "Maybe I can help."</p><p> </p><p>"You already help, Katara. More than I think you know, you help."</p><p> </p><p>It doesn't feel right to leave it at that, but... “All right," she whispers. "If you're sure.”</p><p> </p><p>He nods, resolute. “I am.”</p><p> </p><p>They go quiet, watching the swirling heavens drift on by. There’s no cloud tonight. The moon is waxing, but there’s still a little bit of pull in it, enough to make her aware of the slightly irregular heartbeat in Zuko’s chest. The stars, constellations he’s pointed out to her before from up here, tell different stories to the one she grew up with, new and exciting and fascinating.</p><p> </p><p>“I love the stars in your sky.”</p><p> </p><p>He snorts a laugh. The shadow of bitterness crossing his face surprises her. “You have a vastly more interesting sky at the South Pole. I’m pretty jealous of the aurora.”</p><p> </p><p>She looks down at their joined hands. “I suppose we all want the things we can’t have.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not that.” Zuko sighs. “These stars, this sky… sometimes I just wish that they were… I don’t know, different, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>She waits a moment, but when he doesn’t continue, she asks, “What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>He lets out a long breath. “When I was born,” he starts, “there was a star chart written for me, and Azula, too, and everyone else born into my family. Based on the position of the stars and planets in this exact part of the sky at the time of my birth, the fire sages came up with a projection for my first eighteen years.</p><p> </p><p>“I would be outspoken, unlucky, I would leave my home in search of something far beyond myself and return to it a reluctant leader. It also said I would be weak, that my being born in the middle of winter would be of detriment to my power and ability, if I had any ability at all.”</p><p> </p><p>Her jaw clenches. “That was wrong.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your confidence in me is appreciated, thank you,” he says, smiling at her. “But whether it was accurate or not isn’t the point. I hate that star chart, these stars. They’ve stalked me all my life. Do you have any idea what it’s like to grow up with something like that hovering over you, always wondering if it’s you making the choices leading you to your next move or if your life is some divinely conceived joke that the spirits are laughing at as you try to change things that can never change?”</p><p> </p><p>She twists her body to face him properly. “No, but I think I understand what you mean. Sometimes, I like the idea of fate. The idea that I have no control is reassuring. At the same time, though, it makes me angry, too. To think that no matter how hard I try, there’s no real choice that I’m making because it’s already been decided for me.”</p><p> </p><p>He sighs. “Frustrating, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I don’t know,” she muses. “Did I ever tell you about the time an old fortune teller told me that I’d marry a powerful bender?”</p><p> </p><p>“That,” he says, sounding as sombre as a funeral, “sounds exactly like the sort of thing an old con woman would tell a teenage girl to get her to empty her pockets.”</p><p> </p><p>She swats his shoulder, and he laughs. “She never actually took my money, but that’s not the point. I think then, the idea that that part of my life was all said and done for was kind of refreshing. One less thing to worry about, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“You sound like the sort of person who’d probably love a star chart. Maybe you should ask the sages if they could put one together retroactively for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you think they would?”</p><p> </p><p>He snorts. “Who knows? For you, they might.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe I will ask, then,” she muses, then laughs. “I’m sorry, Zuko. I doubt that was the kind of conversation you thought we were going to have when you came out here.”</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t really thinking there would be much conversation at all, really.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, and what did you have in mind, Fire Lord Zuko?”</p><p> </p><p>He gently tugs her closer. “Fairly certain I’ve asked you not to call me that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Got a plan to stop me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Agni, you are so annoying sometimes,” he mutters as he cups her cheeks and kisses her before she can say anything else.</p><p> </p><p>(Not, she thinks as she sinks into him, that there was anything left to say).</p><p> </p><p>“You told me in one of your letters,” she murmurs against his swollen lips much, much later, “that they tell stories about us.”</p><p> </p><p>He nods. “They still do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Will you tell me one before we go back in?”</p><p> </p><p>“They don’t skew too far from reality, to be honest.” His words tickle her lips, but she’s not going to be the first one to pull away. “They just really exaggerate things that happened. They said Azula held the power of the comet itself in her hands, and that you tore the clouds from the sky to beat her. You’re the reason why we entered a drought shortly after the war.</p><p> </p><p>“But there’s others who say that’s a good thing, that you’re responsible for our prosperity.”</p><p> </p><p>“Drought doesn’t strike me as a good thing,” she says dryly.</p><p> </p><p>“Why would it, waterbender?” he teases her. “But droughts in the capital, where we do not rely on frequent rainfall to grow crops, are considered a great boon. I credit that drought with the relative stability of those first few months.”</p><p> </p><p>“What else do they say?”</p><p> </p><p>“All are mostly variations on the same thing. The only time they really skew from reality is when they talk about what happened after.”</p><p> </p><p>“What happens then?”</p><p> </p><p>He smirks, kisses her again. “True love’s kiss brings me back from the dead.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t kiss you then! And you weren’t even dead, for La’s sake!”</p><p> </p><p>“But it makes the story sound a lot better, doesn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Another joke?”</p><p> </p><p>“Depends. Did it make you laugh?”</p><p> </p><p>“I would urge you not to pursue a career in comedy.”</p><p> </p><p>He taps her hip in admonishment. “Well, they’re not for everybody.”</p><p> </p><p>“Should I be grateful then that you save all your best material for me?”</p><p> </p><p>“I save all my material for you.”</p><p> </p><p>She smiles and kisses him again.  “Told you you were sappy.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Day 5: Hesitancy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Day Five: Hesitancy</p><p>What? You thought it was going to be fluff forever?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zuko disappears the whole of the next day and night, and an uneasy sensation follows Katara around the palace corners.</p><p> </p><p>It strikes her how very silent the palace is by design. Not a single floorboard squeaks. Footsteps are muffled by thick rugs. No one speaks beyond a reverent whisper when passing through the halls. The silence never bothered her, not really, though most of the time she would walk the halls with Zuko, peppering their walk with quiet chatter and gentle laughs. Today, though, alone save for her guards, and with no real destination in mind, it’s eerie. Like waiting for a bomb to explode.</p><p> </p><p>The few ministers she’s met during her time in the city nod at her as she passes them, but no one speaks. Servants mutter, but never stop anywhere for longer than a second. Everyone seems to be walking upon eggshells, afraid of something that Katara can’t guess, much less that anyone wants to share.</p><p> </p><p>She glances back at her guards. Mayumi moves with purpose, hands clenched into fists at her sides and her tall bow slung over her shoulder, but Ty Lee keeps glancing quickly from side to side, a deep frown creasing her forehead.</p><p> </p><p>“Ty Lee?” she says, brows furrowed. “Mayumi? Is there something going on?”</p><p> </p><p>Ty Lee and Mayumi exchange a look. “We’re not allowed to talk about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Orders from the Fire Lord,” Mayumi says with a shrug. “Apologies, Master Katara.”</p><p> </p><p>Katara’s eyes narrow. “Where exactly is the Fire Lord?”</p><p> </p><p>“We can't tell you that, either.”</p><p> </p><p>Katara’s fingers flinch towards her waterskins. “Why not?” But she already knows the answer.</p><p> </p><p>“Orders,” Ty Lee says sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Katara.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Katara mutters as she pulls ahead and loses them around another silent corner. “So am I.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>A blast of fire somewhere on the palace grounds wakes her a little after midnight.</p><p> </p><p>She scowls to herself as she pulls on a robe and cinches it shut. Beyond the window, a dark plume of smoke rises from somewhere near the courtyard. Sparring grounds, she remembers. She’s sparred with Zuko there before.</p><p> </p><p>She climbs out the window to avoid the guards stationed at her door, and darts across the garden in a wave of fog. Her heart kicks up with long dormant adrenaline as she ducks and weaves between trees bowed and heavy with pungent flowers and tall, twisting columns to hide from the guards patrolling the edges. There are more guards than she realised. She sucks in another deep breath and breaks into a run.</p><p> </p><p>As she reaches the high walls of the sparring grounds, the smoke takes on a smell like burnt grass, and the heat even on the outside is staggering. She gloves herself in cool fog and pushes open the heavy, insulated gate.</p><p> </p><p>She’s almost sorry to interrupt him. He’s furious and beautiful and lethal in his firebending. Scorched straw dummies sit in a smouldering row in front of him, and in the darkness, his fire is as bright as the sun.</p><p> </p><p>She closes the gate with a loud thud. “Zuko?”</p><p> </p><p>He extinguishes his fire in a blink, and the world goes black. “Katara?" he rasps.</p><p> </p><p>She swallows, evaporates the fog into nothing. "Yeah, just me."</p><p> </p><p>He snaps his fingers, and a small, bright flame sits in his hand, just enough to cast long shadows like sharp claws."How did you get in here? These grounds are for firebenders only.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, please. Like I can’t defend myself against you. Besides… unlocked.” She crosses the hard clay field and comes to a stop in front him, close enough that the heat from his flame and body almost scalds her. Sweat drips off his long arms and naked torso, glinting off the star-shaped scar, and the harsh pant of his breaths has her own speeding up for wholly different reasons.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing out here, Zuko? It’s after midnight.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t sleep,” he grunts. He turns away and sends another ball of fire outwards.</p><p> </p><p>“Why not?” She follows him, keeping just behind and to his right. “Do you want to talk about it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing to talk about, really.” He kicks out a wave of flames and incinerates another dummy. “I just... I saw my father yesterday.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” She bites her lip. “Why?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t even know anymore,” he mutters. “At this point, it’d be easier to forget him. Pretend he doesn’t exist.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why would you order your guards not to tell me about that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he grounds out, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “Because I’m angry, and right now, Katara, I just really want to hurt something.”</p><p> </p><p>“What did he say?”</p><p> </p><p>“The same stupid things he always says. I don’t know why I expect anything different.” He spins and kicks wave after wave of flames. “Taunting me, saying I’m an unfit ruler, how the people of the Fire Nation will turn on me eventually, that the Avatar left him alive for a reason, and I’m an idiot for not working out the reason yet. There is no damn reason. There was no damn reason for him to be left alive.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you angry with him?” she asks gently. “Aang, I mean. For leaving your father alive?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sometimes,” he admits, and she can tell that the words cost him dearly. “I understand why he did it. At least, I tell myself that I do. But that doesn’t change the fact that Ozai is much, much more than his bending, and everything would be so much simpler if he were dead.” Every word is punctuated with another punch.</p><p> </p><p>“His trial is coming up soon, though, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>“There’s a lot to wade through, so it probably won’t be as soon as everyone would like, but eventually, yes, there will be a trial.”</p><p> </p><p>“Will there…” She stops, swallows. “Will there be a death penalty?”</p><p> </p><p>“Aang will fight it every step of the way, but yes, there will be. Aang has already judged my father by Air Nomad standards, but he has yet to answer to Fire Nation justice.”</p><p> </p><p>Her mouth is dry when she says, “He’s as good as dead already, isn’t he?”</p><p> </p><p>He nods grimly. "And he knows it, too.”</p><p> </p><p>She hands him a towel from the bench closest to the gate. “What about Azula?”</p><p> </p><p>“I know it’s hard to remember,” he starts, sighing. “I forget it sometimes, too, but Azula is the same age as you. She’s committed some horrible atrocities, but her age means that the therapy she’s having has a good chance of working long term. She’s being held at a specialised facility to the west nearer to the Raava mountain range. I visit her once a month.”</p><p> </p><p>“Have you visited her this month?”</p><p> </p><p>He shakes his head. “Not yet. I postponed it when you arrived.”</p><p> </p><p>She counts her breaths, one, two, three. “Could I maybe come with you next time?”</p><p> </p><p>He freezes. “You want to see Azula?”</p><p> </p><p>“If that’s okay with you.”</p><p> </p><p>He hesitates. “I… don’t know. I don’t know how she would react to seeing you. It took a long while for her not to attack me on sight.”</p><p> </p><p>“You said she hugged you after you were poisoned.”</p><p> </p><p>“And was back to insulting me very shortly after.” He runs a hand through his damp hair. “I’ll think about it, okay? She has good days and... not so good days, and she’s not especially… stable.”</p><p> </p><p>Katara frowns. “Worse than before?”</p><p> </p><p>“She… hallucinates a lot. Talks to people who aren’t there. A nanny who watched us when we were young. One of her old firebending tutors.” He stops, swallows. “Our mother.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your mother?” she prompts gently when he falls silent.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but it’s strange. Azula says… she says our mother is still alive. I didn’t think it was possible — I was so sure our mother was dead, but I asked Ozai, and he said she’s alive, too.”</p><p> </p><p>She purses her lips. “You know I want this to be true,” she starts with a frown, “but can you trust either of them to tell you the truth?”</p><p> </p><p>Zuko shakes his head. “They wouldn’t lie. Especially not Ozai. Not when the truth hurts more.”</p><p> </p><p>“When did they tell you this?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, not long after they were jailed. Leverage, I think. But that’s the only part of all this that doesn’t make sense. Dissolving my mother’s banishment was one of the first things I did. The announcement was sent out to every Fire Nation district and colony. If she’s out there, there’s no way she wouldn’t have heard it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Zuko…”</p><p> </p><p>“I'd do it myself, if I could,” he whispers. “I’d go and find her and bring her back. You have no idea how much I want to, the mountains I’d move to be able to. But everything’s still so precarious, and after the… poisoning, there’s obviously more than a few people who view my leaving the throne for any stretch of time as a weakness.”</p><p> </p><p>She takes his hand and squeezes gently. “You know I’d help you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” He smiles, that very small, very Zuko smile. “And that’s exactly why I won’t ever ask you.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” She drops his hand. “What does that even mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“You do nothing in half measures, Katara. Not for the people you love. Besides… she can wait. She’s been waiting this long.”</p><p> </p><p>“But what about you? How much longer are you willing to wait?”</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t say anything, and that’s probably the most telling of all.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The markets are full of laughing children and their fondly exasperated mothers, hawkers yelling their wares and the tens of hundreds of thousands of different scents from the spice vendors. She catches a thousand different accents, dodges people in all shades of clothing. Its in places like these that she’s most proud of Zuko and all he’s managed to accomplish, the peace he’s managed to foster in his nation, which makes something he told her last night make all the less sense.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Zuko visiting his father,” Ty Lee says as they wander through the fruit stalls.</p><p> </p><p>Katara huffs a laugh and quickly pays for a bag of ripe figs. “I’d hardly call what he did visiting, but I understand why Zuko told you not to say anything, even if it was dumb.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was dumb,” Ty Lee agrees. “He should have you with him when he’s like that, otherwise he just sorta spirals. But I’m glad you’re not mad.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, I’m not mad at you. But, can I ask you something?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shoot!”</p><p> </p><p>“Zuko said something yesterday about things still being precarious after the poisoning,” she says, biting her lip. “Like he thinks he’s still in danger or something, or that someone’s going to try and hurt him again. But I thought they managed to catch the person who poisoned him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, yeah,” Ty Lee says, measuring a pair of mangoes in her hands, “they got one of them.”</p><p> </p><p>Katara freezes. “What do you mean, <em>one</em> of them?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, no.” Ty Lee drops the mangoes and slaps her hands over her mouth, her big grey eyes blown wide. “I wasn’t… you weren’t supposed to know that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ty Lee,” she says lowly. “What exactly are you saying? That more than one person tried to poison Zuko? Or that he was poisoned more than once?”</p><p> </p><p>Ty Lee shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I really can’t say any more. I’ve already stuffed it up too much. Mayumi’s gonna kill me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You haven’t stuffed anything up,” Katara snaps. “Just tell me. How many times, and by how many people, has Zuko been poisoned?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know the exact number,” Ty Lee whispers. “I was called here after Suki and everyone else replaced the old Royal Guard.”</p><p> </p><p>“Make a guess!”</p><p> </p><p>“I really don’t know! Maybe about ten?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ten,” Katara repeats dully. “Ten times.”</p><p> </p><p>“Katara —”</p><p> </p><p>“— Did Zuko tell you not to tell me?” Her breath leaves her in a rush. “Is that why you’re guarding me? Does he think I’m in danger, too?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Ty Lee says miserably. “To all of those, yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, is he right? Is he still in danger?”</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t know. But we think… maybe?”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe.” Katara shakes her head. “Maybe. Where is he?”</p><p> </p><p>“Katara —”</p><p> </p><p>“— <em>Where is he</em>, Ty Lee?”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably in the palace,” she squeaks. “He had a meeting with the economic advisors this morning. It should be finished by lunch.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good. If we leave now, we’ll meet him just in time.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, wait — Katara!”</p><p> </p><p>But she’s piercing her way through the crowd before Ty Lee can do anything.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Different advisors and ministers are breaking for lunch by the time Katara makes it back, panting and a sweating mess, to the palace.</p><p> </p><p>None cross her path. She wonders what she must look like to them. She’s vibrating so hard with fury that she can feel it in her bones, and she follows it to the door with the stained-glass flame in the centre, with Zuko’s personal office behind it.</p><p> </p><p>She shoves it open without knocking. Zuko jumps in his chair like she’s summoned lightning beneath him.</p><p> </p><p>“Katara,” Zuko says with a sigh. Bags sit heavy under his eyes, nearly purple against the pale pallor of his skin. “What are you… oh, Agni, what’s the time? I was in a meeting with my —”</p><p> </p><p>“— Were you ever planning on telling me?” she cuts in coldly.</p><p> </p><p>“Telling you what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t you <em>dare</em> play stupid with me, not now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Katara —”</p><p> </p><p>“— How many <em>spirits damned</em> times has someone almost killed you, Zuko?”</p><p> </p><p>He clenches his jaw, and a muscle there ripples. “Who told you about that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Who cares who told me?” she snaps. “The fact is it wasn’t you.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was Ty Lee, wasn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t matter who told me, Zuko!” she cries. “Just… be honest with me now, okay? How many times has this happened?”</p><p> </p><p>He taps his brush against the desk in a nonsense rhythm. “When I was… sick before…” he starts slowly, “that was the seventh time someone had tried. First time they got close. They managed to sneak it into the water I keep by my bedside. Overall… I think the last count was fifteen.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fifteen times?” The breath leaves her lungs in a sharp, harsh, stinging blow. “Fifteen times someone has tried to kill you, and only <em>once</em> did you think that was a fact worth mentioning?”</p><p> </p><p>“Katara —”</p><p> </p><p>“— No. Don’t you dare <em>Katara</em> me right now.” The walls frost over, and her next words come out as fog on the frigid air. “Was it your royal guard again? You told me they had been vetted.”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” He sounds oddly bored. “Not the royal guard. There’s this strong… anti-royal sentiment in the Fire Nation these days. Not to say it’s the majority, it’s just a… very, very loud minority.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what are you doing about it, Zuko?”</p><p> </p><p>“What little I can, with the resources I have.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is that why the military was recalled?”</p><p> </p><p>“There were riots in the city not long before you arrived. We needed the military to quell it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Zuko…” She shakes her head. “<em>Why</em> didn’t you say anything?”</p><p> </p><p>That muscle in his jaw ripples again, and his eyes flash molten. “Because I didn’t want you to know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, were you ever planning on saying anything?” She leans across his desk, her eyes boring into his. “What would have happened if you were poisoned while I was here? Would I be expected to swallow some stupid story about you disappearing without notice to the mountains to reflect on your inner fire or something?”</p><p> </p><p>He sets his jaw. “I wasn’t planning on telling you at all.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>What</em>?” She summons a handful of water from the muggy air and hurls it at his face. “Spirits, Zuko, what sort of answer is that? You didn’t want me to care? Is that it?”</p><p> </p><p>He wipes at his eyes, black pupils almost entirely overtaking the gold iris. “I didn’t want you to drop everything and come here, halfway to the Avatar state yourself, and try to fix everything the way you always do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yes,” she says sarcastically. “Aren’t I awful for wanting to help you.”</p><p> </p><p>He sneers. “Your particular brand of help is about as subtle as a sledgehammer, Katara.”</p><p> </p><p>Something settles like a stone in her stomach. “What in La’s name are you trying to tell me, Zuko?”</p><p> </p><p>He lets out a huff of breath, smoke curling from his nose. “Forget it.”</p><p> </p><p>“No!” She seizes his sleeve, forces him to turn and face her. His skin is nearly scalding. “What’s your problem, Zuko?”</p><p> </p><p>“You! You are <em>so</em> all or nothing, Katara!” he yells, ripping at his hair. “And maybe that works fine with purifying lakes and curing plagues, but it won’t work here. What would you do? How would you find the people responsible for trying to kill me? Then what? Would you use bloodbending on them? Would you stop their hearts with a snap of your fingers? Would you force them to jump off cliffs? Did you think that far ahead, Katara?”</p><p> </p><p>Her heart pounds faster with every word he says. “Zuko,” she breathes.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t tell you, Katara,” he says, the words heavy with his erratic breathing, “because I don’t want your help with this, and I definitely don’t need it.” His voice is as cold as she’s ever heard it. “Please leave. I have work to finish.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” she whispers. “But I’m not sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a flash on his face that reminds her heartbreakingly so of the Zuko who chased them around the world without a care for anything except his Agni-cursed honour.</p><p> </p><p>“Neither am I.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Day 6: Affirm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Day Six: Affirm</p><p>Look, there's only one chapter left after this. I won't apologise for the speedy resolve.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She doesn’t see him for two full days.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a combination of both their faults. He’s a busy man. She’s very good at holding grudges, and she’s got a feeling she’ll be holding this one for a while. It makes avoidance much easier.</p><p> </p><p>But it still hurts a little that he doesn’t seek her out.</p><p> </p><p>She’s too stubborn to go and wring the apology out of him herself.</p><p> </p><p>She instead puts her days to enthusiastic use at one of the free clinics set up in the market ring. The head healer there shrugs and tells her that it’s usually quiet, benign sort of work. It is for a while, at the beginning. It starts with vendors coming to her to heal minor burns and knife cuts, but as word gets out that the Avatar’s waterbender is dispensing free medical aid, more and more people come with increasingly more convoluted problems to seek her services.</p><p> </p><p>She’s more grateful than anything. If they notice the hard set of her scowl or how the water healing them goes like ice under the muggy summer sun, they don’t say anything. Most promise her a free meal at one of their stands and leave as quickly as they came.</p><p> </p><p>She returns to the palace at just before nightfall, muscles on fire and her eyes heavy. Ty Lee and Mayumi follow her, silent and sombre, and probably just as tired as she is. The sun tracks long and low on the horizon, spreading out in tendrils of pink and orange and red and gold. She watches with the same awe for the sight she had when they first entered Fire Nation territory during the war.</p><p> </p><p>The palace is ghoulish in its silence when she enters. Ministers have long retreated to their homes or offices, and most of the palace staff have finished for the night. Zuko’s in there somewhere. The thought sets her teeth on edge. Whatever distance she created from her own searing thoughts closes like a stitch, and so begins the furious screaming in her head once more.</p><p> </p><p>She cuts through a garden off the main hall. The sound of insects chirruping, the rustle of tree leaves in the warm breeze, and the soft quacks and splashes of the turtle-ducks in the ponds is exactly the antidote to the inside silence she needed.</p><p> </p><p>The clatter of clinking china catches her attention from the base of the old willow tree at the garden’s centre. The scent of tea — jasmine, she thinks, but she’s no expert — follows it, and only then does she know for sure who is sitting at the tree’s other side.</p><p> </p><p>“Good afternoon, General Iroh,” she greets him with a tired smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Master Katara!” Iroh beams and sets down his teacup. “How fortuitous that I should think of you, and have you appear right away!”</p><p> </p><p>She shifts from side to side. “I haven’t seen you since we came back from Jeunso Province. How are you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Simply wonderful, my dear. Some native Fire Nation teas don’t have the same punch after they are exported to the Earth Kingdom. Only the freshest will do. Please, sit, have a cup.”</p><p> </p><p>“I wouldn’t want to disturb you, General.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you could never, Master Katara,” Iroh says without looking up. “Besides, my nephew will be in meetings until late this evening, and you look as though you’ve had a long day already. A cup of tea before dinner will do wonders for your mood.”</p><p> </p><p>She sighs and nods her dismissal to her guards. Mayumi offers a salute, while Ty Lee shoots a small, tired smile. Both leave the way they came, and Katara and Iroh are left alone with the chirping cricket-moths.</p><p> </p><p>She sits herself cross-legged opposite him, folding her aching hands in her lap.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you have a blend you favour, Master Katara?” he asks. “I would be happy to brew something to your preference.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you have chamomile?” she asks, more bitterly than she intends. “I could use the calming influence.”</p><p> </p><p>Iroh’s hand freezes for the briefest of seconds over the selection of cans stacked neatly in a basket at his side. “What is troubling you, Master Katara?” he questions her, decanting a small handful of chamomile blooms into a steaming teapot.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you know?” she asks, her teeth already gritting together.</p><p> </p><p>“Of what, my dear?”</p><p> </p><p>“About Zuko’s assassination attempts.”</p><p> </p><p>A strangely dark look crosses Iroh’s face. “I’m afraid Zuko has not disclosed the full extent of his problems to me, either. I only learned of them while acting as regent. Zuko has yet to broach the topic with me personally, however.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?” This is the question that has been desperately tugging like a stubborn animal at her brain. “Why wouldn’t he tell anyone?”</p><p> </p><p>“Zuko is not one for subtext, and he has never been. He will take you and your words at the face value they present. If I tell him I am looking forward to a quiet and peaceful retirement in the Earth Kingdom, he will not disturb me if he feels it will break that wish. If you tell him of the wonderful work you are doing to bring your tribe further, then he will not disturb that either.”</p><p> </p><p>“We had a fight about it a few days ago. A really big one. He said some awful things to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I would imagine he did. He has an awful tendency to lash out.” He lifts the lid on the teapot and smiles. “I think your chamomile tea is ready, my dear.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” she says, taking the proffered cup. “So, what can we do?”</p><p> </p><p>“Be thorns in his side, and never let him forget that we love him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why doesn’t he understand that we do already? That there’s no catch to it?”</p><p> </p><p>“His past doesn’t let him remember things such as this easily. I myself have told him many times on many occasions.”</p><p> </p><p>She sighs and breathes in the warm steam. “Then I suppose we’ll just have to try harder, then, won’t we?”</p><p> </p><p>Iroh smiles. “Yes, I suppose we will.”</p><p> </p><p>She takes a deep sip of her tea. “I’m still kind of mad at him, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Iroh laughs. “As you are likely entitled to be.”</p><p> </p><p>She takes another sip. “Will you be leaving soon, General?”</p><p> </p><p>“Master Katara,” Iroh says as he refills his cup. “Given how I would like to think that we have established ourselves as friends, not to mention your relationship with my nephew, you could simply call me Iroh, or even Uncle, of you preferred.”</p><p> </p><p>A grin grows slowly on her lips. “I didn’t have any uncles growing up,” she admits. “Or aunts. My parents were single children.”</p><p> </p><p>Iroh beams behind his cup. “Would you like one?”</p><p> </p><p>She matches his smile. “I’ll think about it, Iroh.”</p><p> </p><p>“All we can ask of each other, my dear. But to answer your original question, yes. I will be leaving for Ba Sing Se again at the end of the week.”</p><p> </p><p>“Zuko will miss you.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I will miss him, too. But I am only a day’s journey away, and I will always return if he needs me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I told him I would help find his mother, if he wanted.”</p><p> </p><p>The crinkles around Iroh’s eyes soften. “He is truly fortunate to have someone like you in his life, even if he still doesn’t fully realise it. And for such an auspicious occasion as the return of Lady Ursa, or to keep the throne safe while you search, I would gladly return to the Fire Nation.”</p><p> </p><p>“Would you mind telling me about Lady Ursa?”</p><p> </p><p>Iroh pauses with his cup halfway to his mouth. “Does Zuko not talk about her?”</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head. “He’s only told me about me about her twice. Once to tell me she was gone, and later to tell me she liked reading.”</p><p> </p><p>“I wouldn’t want to overstep my bounds. I’m sure if you were to ask Zuko, he would be willing to answer your questions. However, I can say that she was a remarkable woman, far braver than history credits her. All that is good in Zuko came from Lady Ursa.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you as well, I'm sure,” Katara reminds gently.</p><p> </p><p>Iroh chuckles and shakes his head. “All I can do is attempt to sway Zuko in new directions. He is the one who makes the decisions he does. Often to his detriment, I fear.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I don’t know,” she says with a smile, “I think he’s done well otherwise.”</p><p> </p><p>He tilts his cup to her in salutation. “On that, Master Katara, we are in firm agreement.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Ty Lee tells her that Zuko barely leaves his office, and sometimes sleeps there, too.</p><p> </p><p>(This is also what Ty Lee terms <em>spiralling</em>).</p><p> </p><p>Katara tells herself she doesn’t care. She hopes he feels bad for the awful things he said and the stupid decisions he made. He absolutely deserves to stew.</p><p> </p><p>But things are different now. And by the third day of actively ignoring him, she wonders what purpose it’s serving for either of them to be so angry and miserable all the time.</p><p> </p><p>She knocks on his office door. Something falls to the ground with a loud thump, followed by a muffled curse.</p><p> </p><p>“Come in,” he calls back, the rasp in his voice even more prominent than usual.</p><p> </p><p>She pushes the door open on its silent hinges and finds him sitting at his desk. Dark bags sit heavy under his eyes, and his hair is a matted mess. His crown hangs lopsided, and the tie on his robes is loose, opening to show a pale sliver of his chest. An inkwell sits upside down and spilling on the floor. She gathers the ink up with a wave and sends it back into its bottle.</p><p> </p><p>“Katara,” he says, the sound heavy with something like relief.</p><p> </p><p>She clenches her jaw. “Zuko.”</p><p> </p><p> “What are you — are you —”</p><p> </p><p>She sits in the chair opposite his desk and makes a show of examining her fingernails. “I had tea with your uncle yesterday.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?” He watches her carefully, like she might sprint away at the slightest sudden movement. “How was he?”</p><p> </p><p>She glares at him. “Relieved to no longer be regent.”</p><p> </p><p>Zuko sinks back in his chair. “That’s nice for him.”</p><p> </p><p>She hums. “Imagine if any of those assassination attempts landed. He’d have to be Fire Lord full time. Imagine how miserable he’d be.”</p><p> </p><p>He lets out a breath. “Katara, I —”</p><p> </p><p>“— <em>Imagine</em>,” she goes on, like he never spoke, “how upset he’d be not only to learn that his nephew is dead thanks to Ozai loyalists who shouldn’t even be able to run you around like they are, but that you had the ways and means to stop them all along, and did nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Katara —”</p><p> </p><p>“— Imagine then that this doesn’t even need to be an issue! That if you just spoke to literally any one of us, that we would help you, no questions asked. You wouldn’t be dead, and your uncle wouldn’t be forced into a job he doesn’t want. How wonderful is that? Such an easy set of solutions to such a stupid problem.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” he says, so softly she wonders if maybe she imagined it.</p><p> </p><p>“I get it to a point, Zuko,” she says sharply. “If you were any other person in the world, maybe I would sit back and let you deal with this in your own way. But you’re not just any other person. Not to the world, not to your nation, and definitely not to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, and I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for not telling you sooner, for all those horrible things I said. I was still angry about my father and everything else, but that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, you shouldn’t have.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I know you wouldn’t do anything like that. The bloodbending, I mean. It was… so incredibly low of me to throw that in your face.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it was.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know you’re only trying to help. Agni, you wouldn’t be you and I wouldn’t… you know, if you weren’t you and I’m just — I can’t apologise enough, Katara. I’m so sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know you are,” she says. “I’m sorry, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“For what?”</p><p> </p><p>She shrugs. “A few things, I guess. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so angry with you. It’s not exactly your fault people want you dead.”</p><p> </p><p>He snorts. “No, you were well entitled.”</p><p> </p><p>“But I’m also sorry that you still feel like you have to deal with all this alone. That it keeps happening. That you need to be so wary, even in your own home. For a lot of things, really.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m also sorry that you still don’t seem to understand anything.”</p><p> </p><p>He sighs. “What else is there to understand, Katara?”</p><p> </p><p>She reaches halfway across the desk and sets her hands over the messy stack of papers littered there. “You <em>need</em> to tell me when things like this happen, Zuko. I want to know.”</p><p> </p><p>He shakes his head. “I really don’t like making demands of you, Katara.”</p><p> </p><p>“This is hardly a demand, Zuko. Actually, I think it’s basic courtesy for me to know if the man I…” She falters on the next, very heavy words, and drops them entirely, “one of my absolute best friends in the entire world… is in some kind of mortal danger.”</p><p> </p><p>Something unreadable flashes across his eyes. “You have a home that needs you, far more than I do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is that what you tell yourself? My home can manage just fine without me there permanently.”</p><p> </p><p>“Katara…”</p><p> </p><p>“Is there a reason you’re so desperate for me to leave?”</p><p> </p><p>He reaches across his desk and takes her hands in his. “I’m not — <em>please</em> don’t think that I want you to leave.”</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t pull away. “I’m not getting anything else out of this conversation, Zuko. You’ve been pushing me away since I got here, haven’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Never — not intentionally, I promise. I want you to stay,” he says, straining. “Always, with my whole being, I want you here with me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why can’t you just tell me that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because I want you safe and happy as well. And I don’t ever want you to resent me. Considering the history between our countries, asking you to give up everything to stay with me here is the most stupidly selfish thing I could ever ask of you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for the thought you’ve given this,” she says dryly, “but it really isn’t up to you, Zuko. I wouldn’t be giving up anything by being with you.”</p><p> </p><p>He groans and presses his forehead to their joined hands. “Katara, please —”</p><p> </p><p>“— Can I stay with you or not?”</p><p> </p><p>He sighs. “For however long you want.”</p><p> </p><p>A small smile tugs at her lips. “Would forever be okay with you?”</p><p> </p><p>He shuts his eyes. “More than.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re doing everything you can to make reparations to the world. Believe me, Zuko, the world sees what you’re doing.” She reaches out to trace down the length of his scar, and along the sharp line of his jaw. He’s beautiful, and that way he’s staring at her… “I see what you’re doing, and… Spirits, Zuko, I love you for it.”</p><p> </p><p>“You love me?” he repeats, soft as a feather.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” she says, twice as gentle. “I love you, Zuko.”</p><p> </p><p>“Agni,” he breathes. “Agni, Katara, I love you, too.”</p><p> </p><p>The candles flicker as she rounds the desk and settles herself on his lap. Not too many more words of consequence pass their lips that night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Day 7: Rebirth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Day Seven: Rebirth</p><p>Apologies for the delay on this one. This chapter had the least written for it come the start of Zutara week, so I was playing a lot of catch-up there. Please enjoy this short bit of fluff to round out Zutara Week 2020.</p><p>The Lady of the Moon reference is credited to @zutarawasrobbed</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>And by the time her month is up, she’s still not ready to return to the Southern Water Tribe.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not just the shiny new meaning of their kisses and fleeting touches, the whispers of what she’s sure will evolve into things wholly new for both of them. It’s not even the invitation to join the intelligence meetings held with his guards and advisors to track down the group responsible for Zuko’s assassination attempts.</p><p> </p><p>It’s all the things in the middle. The mundanity of it all that she never would have guessed would exist in a relationship where she is being courted by the leader of a nation. It’s sharing meals with Zuko and swapping his serving of pickled cucumbers for her spicy mango salad.</p><p> </p><p>(“It’s wrong,” she insists as she chomps on a salty pickle. “Mango is perfect on its own and should not be violated this way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, no,” he snarks back as he shovels in another mouthful of the mango salad, complete with literal <em>chillies</em> on top. “You’re wrong and you should feel wrong.”)</p><p> </p><p>It’s quiet mornings on those rare days where Zuko isn’t needed until the afternoons. It’s slow sparring sessions that often devolve into needy kisses and desperate touches when they’re too lazy to keep going. It’s taking his sweaty hand in hers and walking back to the palace, where only a small few blink at the touch. It a fresh vase of not-fire lilies in her rooms in the mornings, starting the day after she commented on how beautiful the colours in his gardens are. It’s a last-minute trip out to Jeunso Province on her third-last day to make sure they’re doing well, and they are.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes it’s worry. It’s panic that maybe the world hasn’t changed as much as they thought. It’s blind fear when they try again, someone shooting an arrow at Zuko from somewhere high in the markets, cutting close enough to graze his scarred cheek. It’s the fury that surges in her veins when she spots them, not as well hidden as they thought, and goes after and after them until she manages to freeze them to the side of a building.</p><p> </p><p>After that, it’s reassurance. It’s promises to do better. It’s nights sleeping curled around him and disappearing before his servants can find her in the morning. It’s the smile when he looks at her, the hesitant new openness of his conversations. She learns more about him in those last two weeks than the whole time she’s known him.</p><p> </p><p>And it’s ideas. Ones hatched late at night on very high towers, like all the best ones. It’s a tentative plan to find his mother, one they talk out over and over and over again until it sounds nearly easy.</p><p> </p><p>And after that, Katara feels sure.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>XXX</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It’s late at night, more like early morning. Katara sits with her head lolled against Zuko’s shoulder and his hand combing through her loose hair, high up on the topmost tower, watching the stars roll by. She leaves for the South Pole at sunrise. Sleep doesn’t seem to matter all that much while they count down the hours before she leaves.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you packed?” Zuko whispers. It’s always whispers up here.</p><p> </p><p>She nods. “The bag I came with, plus another box for the cargo hold. I’ll have to talk to your uncle about restraint next time I see him.”</p><p> </p><p>Zuko snorts. “I’ve tried before. He doesn’t listen. He just keeps buying you things until… actually, there is no <em>until</em>. You just have to find new room for it all.”</p><p> </p><p>“The best kind of pest, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>He tugs lightly on a curl. “I’m telling him you said that.”</p><p> </p><p>The hand not in her hair climbs to her neck, toying with the charm that sits in the hollow of her throat. “What’s the betrothal tradition in the south?” he asks, and she swears she can hear his heart in his throat. “These are a northern tradition, aren’t they?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s right,” she whispers, then swallows. She’s sure she said something once about heavy conversations and late hours not mixing. “There’s, uh, not really a rule to it. During wartime, lots of things were scarce, let alone the kinds of things needed to make a proper dowry, but some couples present each other with weapons of some kind, if they’re able to.”</p><p> </p><p>He quirks his good brow and smirks. “I understand that the South Pole is a harsh climate, but surely marriage isn’t yet another war to fight.”</p><p> </p><p>“Another joke?”</p><p> </p><p>“Are they getting better?”</p><p> </p><p>She snorts. “The weapons are symbolic. They aren’t often used and mostly hang above the marital bed. They say, I can offer you protection. I can offer you food and shelter. I will be your partner in life and stand always by your side. They say I trust you to provide these things. I trust you will be victorious. I trust that you will come home. I trust that you will put the needs of our family above your own life.”</p><p> </p><p>He slides his thumb along the fraying strip of ribbon. “They say a lot of things, don’t they?”</p><p> </p><p>“If a couple can’t do an exchange of weapons, those words are part of the vows. Or the general idea of them, anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>His fingers freeze along the ribbon band. “Did you just vow yourself to me?”</p><p> </p><p>Her heart pounds against her chest. “I… Would it bother you if I did?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not if you meant it,” he says carefully. “Not if you wanted it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I meant.” Her voice seems to melt on the gentle breeze. “I want.”</p><p> </p><p>A beat of quiet, then he nods. “I’ll start work on a dagger, then. How do you feel about sapphires?”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re my favourite, but I’ve come to like rubies as well. Would Fire Nation nobility object to their leader carrying whalebone weapons?”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably, but I really don’t care.”</p><p> </p><p>“What happened to you, Zuko?” she teases. “You used to seem so awkward.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess I’m seeing things clearer these days. I would ask you now, if you wanted me to,” he tells her.</p><p> </p><p>She smiles. Happy tears well in the corners of her eyes. “No ridiculous arranged marriage for you, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have at least until I turn twenty-one before anyone starts harping on about that sort of thing. Not that I think they will. You’re kind of popular among most of my advisors. Apparently, you yelled at a few of them when you were healing me after everything with Azula.”</p><p> </p><p>She laughs. “I’m glad I left an impression, but I don’t want you to ask me now. But I want you to remember it. I want you to pack it deep inside of you and save it for later. Because one day, Zuko, I will want you to ask, and I know the answer will be yes.”</p><p> </p><p>His smile breaks her heart and mends it, too. “So sure, even in hypotheticals?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve always been sure about you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll always envy that about you,” he admits. “Just a little.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay. I’ll teach you to be sure about yourself, too. But you have to know that I’d never be a traditional Fire Lady.”</p><p> </p><p>“You know I’d never ask you to be. That wouldn’t even need to be your title if you didn’t want it to be.”</p><p> </p><p>“What would I be, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know. Lady of the Moon, perhaps?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds dramatic.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, and Fire Lady doesn’t?” he says with a snicker. “Besides, it’s a work in progress.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s okay. I kind of like dramatic.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re going to really like my future plans, then.”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you have in mind?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well… you remember that half-finished fountain in front of the palace? Where we fought Azula?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have every intention of putting a statue of you in it.”</p><p> </p><p>She pauses, lets the implications of his words settle inside her. “Your people wouldn’t like that,” she says eventually.</p><p> </p><p>“I think you drastically underestimate how much my people like you. And even if they didn’t… you deserve statues, Katara.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t like that courtyard.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s fair. I don’t like it much either.”</p><p> </p><p>“But I think I’d like a statue.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure you would.”</p><p> </p><p>A shaky smile climbs on her lips. “It’s a brave new world where the Fire Nation accepts a statue of a waterbender on its palace grounds, though.”</p><p> </p><p>He shrugs, but she can feel the tremble in his arms. “I’m willing to help it along.”</p><p> </p><p>“At the cost of your own life?”</p><p> </p><p>“What else were we doing to stop the war, if we weren’t willing to lay down our lives?”</p><p> </p><p>She sighs and leans back against him. “I’d rather you didn’t die, if it’s all the same to you.”</p><p> </p><p>He wraps his arm around her shoulders. “I have no plans to die anytime soon.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good, because one day, I'm going to come back here, Zuko, and it's going to be permanent.”</p><p> </p><p>He smiles that very small, very Zuko smile and nods as the sun begins its slow crest over the horizon. “I believe you.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for joining me for Zutara Week 2020! I have tentative plans to drabble more in this universe, but it probably won't be for a little while yet - I've got a thesis which needs my attention now!</p><p>I'm ally147writes on Tumblr if you ever want to drop by and say hi :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm @ally147writes on Tumblr if anyone wants to talk!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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